Angela On The Couch
by Aiyta
Summary: Dr Helga Pataki, 24-year-old college graduate, faces her first challenge as PS118's new child psychologist – counselling Angela Sanderson, the very mirror image of Helga's younger self.
1. Observing Angela

**Angela On The Couch**  
Dr Helga Pataki, 24-year-old college graduate, faces her first challenge as PS118's new child psychologist – counselling Angela Sanderson, the very mirror image of Helga's younger self.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters.I would especially like to own Helga, but alas, I do not. If I owned Helga she would have herself a Jungle Movie and a wonderful jungle kiss. I don't even really own the characters of Angela and the other kids, cause, they're kinda carbon copies really ;)

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Helga Pataki stepped forward through the bright yellow doors and into the creamy coloured corridor with the deep green lockers plastered along the walls; everything seemed exactly the way she remembered. Possibly, the only thing that had changed was her, but that was inevitable, thirteen years had passed after all. Last time she had set foot in these hallways she was a child, the undisputed ruler of her grade with two blonde pigtails and a big pink bow. Now, she was a woman, standing six feet tall, even taller today in her white heels and her long blonde hair cascaded down her back in loose waves.

Helga's attention was suddenly averted from the chipping paint on the elementary school walls, by the sounds of children being pushed against their lockers. Making her way through the corridor was a thin girl with long black hair that had been pulled into a messy ponytail, held back with a thick green headband. She alternated between staring down her fellow students and simply shoving a hand out into their chests, sending them rocketing out of her path. Helga studied the frowning girl as she passed, taking note of the oversized green sweater she wore and the small red-headed girl who offered her a friendly good morning and scurried after her as she walked on.

Once the girl had disappeared from sight, Helga focussed her attention back on her initial task for the day and thus, took a left down the brightly lit hallway. She would be lying if she said returning here wasn't difficult, every inch of PS118 held strong childhood memories, many that she didn't care to relive. Soon, she arrived at large brown door, with the familiar sign that read 'Mr. Wartz – Principal'.

"Come in." came a gruff voice, as Helga lightly tapped against the wooden door.

Prinicpal Wartz peered up from his small toy animals, his face far older than Helga remembered and his once sparse grey hair now completely gone. "Ah, good morning Miss Pataki." he greeted her, quickly shoving the small giraffe and zebra back into the top drawer of his cabinets.

Helga moved to sit in the chair before his desk, "_Doctor_ Pataki." she reminded him bluntly.

"Yes, yes of course." Prinicpal Wartz mused, "You're here to resume Dr Bliss' former role as our resident child psychologist if I recall correctly."

"Correct." she confirmed.

Prinzipal Wartz leant forward onto his desk, "Well, feel free to move around the classrooms as you wish." he granted her.

"I did have one question." Helga said, pulling out her clipboard from the leather briefcase at her side, "The girl with the green headband and the long black hair, what's her name?"

The older man sat back into his chair, "Angela Sanderson." he said thoughtfully, "Fifth grade, a constant menace. Her actions directly violate the school constitution at every turn."

Helga rolled her eyes at her former principal, "Could you give me her classroom number?" she asked.

"Yes, of course." he agreed, sitting forward to flip through a series of index cards on his desk before pulling one out and holding it out in her direction.

_Room 715_ she read as she flipped the card over in her hands, "Thank you."

"I hope you can straighten her out Dr Pataki." Principal Wartz said casually, "Kids like that grow up to be addicts and drop-outs."

Fixing him with an unsettling glare, she stood from the chair, "I was a kid like that, and I grew up fine." she reminded him, as she exited his small, dark office.

Helga confidently made her way through the hallways, the tap of her tall heels as she went, toward Room715, her old sixth grade classroom. Pushing the old green door open, her eyes fell upon a short plump lady with greying curly hair standing before the whiteboard.

"Hello." the teacher said politely, making her way over to Helga, "I am Mrs. Varkel, and you are?"

"Doctor Pataki." she said with a smile, "Childhood behavioural psychologist, I'm here to observe your students."

"Lovely to meet you, Doctor." Mrs Varkel exclaimed brightly, before turning her attention back to the class full of young students, "Okay, listen up class, I'd like to introduce you to Doctor Pataki, she will be joining us during our lessons this morning."

Helga offered a smile to the class and took note of those who smiled back, those who called out friendly hello's and of that fact that Angela simply continued to frown. Mrs Varkel moved back over in front of the large whiteboard, which was littered with various mathematics problems as Helga took a seat by the teachers desk. Drawing out her clipboard, Helga focused her attention on Angela who sat in the third row, and as expected, she didn't have to wait long for the young girl to begin causing trouble.

"Okay, Angela..." Mrs Varkel began sweetly, pointing toward a particularly simply equation on the whiteboard, "...could you help me solve this problem?"

Angela rolled her dark brown eyes and scoffed at the older lady, "I'd rather die." she stated simply.

"Oh, stop being so grumpy." whined a tall boy at the front of the classroom with shaggy blonde hair, who had turned around to face her.

"Suck it, Meatball!" Angela shot back, throwing a balled up piece of notepaper at the boys head, which seemed to sufficiently subdue him enough for there to be no further response more than a few choice words muttered underneath his breath.

Mrs Varkel simply sighed at the exchange, and picked out a studious looking young man in the back row to answer her question instead. Helga was halfway through a thought process on the inability of the older woman to stand up to her students when something caught her eye.

"Ow." muttered a boy in the second row, reaching around to rub his neck, his bright blue eyes drifting toward Angela, who sat behind him.

Angela glared at the brunette boy with the ringlet curls in his hair, "Shut up." she hissed, continuing to stare him down until he gave in with a sigh and turned back around to face the front of the class.

Moments later, when the dark haired girl cut another chunk from her eraser with a sharp pair of scissors, Helga's eyes lit up with recognition and the small eraser portion was hurled directly into the back of the brunette boys head. Helga slowly lowered her pen from the paper, she almost felt like she was stuck in a dream. She had studied these behavioural trends from the inside out, in fact she had _lived_ them, but she had never actually witnessed something that so strongly reflected her own childhood.

Half an hour later, when the bell sounded for recess, Helga still felt as though she was frozen to her seat and as she watched Angela quickly tape a 'kick me' sign to the blue-eyed boys back, she knew what she needed to do.

Mrs Varkel slipped into the chair behind her desk, and looked expectantly in Helga's direction, as though she was possibly expecting a through status report. "How did you observations go, Doctor Pataki?" she enquired kindly, as she took a sip from her coffee cup.

Helga pursed her lips together, "I noticed that Angela seems to be very restless."

"Angela seems to be a very gifted girl." Mrs Varkel explained quickly, "She simply refuses to show it to anybody."

Nodding in understanding, Helga continued, "I'd like to suggest that Angela undertake private sessions with me, I think it will help her." she explained.

"I certainly wouldn't disagree," Mrs Varkel concurred, "but I am actually only a substitute teacher for this class, their regular teacher has been away on vacation and is returning on Monday."

Helga flipped the page of her organiser, "I have Monday morning free..." she mused, "do you think they would have time to speak with me before school?"

The older lady smiled and nodded eagerly, "Certainly!" she began, "I think you'll find them very receptive to the idea Doctor Pataki. Angela's behaviour was explained to me with great concern when I arrived to take over the class; I think your offer will surely be welcomed."

"Thank you." Helga smiled warmly, as she pushed her clipboard and organiser back into her large briefcase and headed for the doorway, "I appreciate your help."

"No problem, Doctor." Mrs Varkel called out after her, as the green classroom door shut and Helga once again found herself within the hallways of the elementary school.

Helga wondered as she roamed the corridors, how long it would take before it no longer felt strange to be here, or how long it would take to stop looking into the Janitor's Closets and recalling all the 'meetings' she'd held there. However, she was awoken from her thoughts when she stumbled upon two large doors, figuring a bit of air may benefit her, she stepped out into the playground she once ruled.

Everything was the same, but that no longer surprised her, it seemed irony was having a field day with her today and she was just simply going to let it. Angela was crouched over, _underneath_ a bench in the far corner of the playground, hovering over some small object that Helga couldn't quite see. The boy with the brunette curls was climbing the jungle gym with two blondes, one a tall boy wearing blue and the other a pretty girl with a charming smile.

Helga groaned as she noticed a short kid with high trousers and big braces walking slowly toward Angela's location. Just as expected, two seconds later the nerdy looking kid was face first on the ground, after receiving a good kick behind the knees. Looking further annoyed than usual, Angela trudged her way over to lean against the wall by Helga, scowling at her classmates on the playground and sneaking dreamy glances at the curly haired boy.

"Does that kid follow you around a lot?" Helga asked, turning her head to face the angsty young girl.

"Guess so." Angela shrugged grumpily, "He just walks up to me _all_ the time. I'm Angela Sanderson, people don't just get to walk up to me whenever they feel like it."

Helga laughed a little, "So, he doesn't appear behind you at the strangest times, breathing heavily and refusing to speak coherent English?"

Angela immediately turned to face her, "Why the heck would anyone do that?" she frowned.

"You know what..." Helga sighed, "to this day I'm still honestly not entirely sure..."

Angela raised an eyebrow at her, "You're weird." she stated bluntly, before stalking off in the opposite direction and crawling underneath yet another playground bench.

Helga bit her lip a little, this was going to be a tough assignment, and not just because of Angela's attitude.


	2. Brown Swirls, Blue Splodges

Helga smoothed out the front of her fitted pink skirt as she stepped from her car early on Monday morning. Ahead of her, elementary school students had begun to arrive and were spilling out from the busses and into the hallways of PS118. Among the sea of young children, one girl with long black hair walked confidently up behind a shorter boy with curly brunette locks and stepped directly onto the backs on his sneakers, causing the young boy in question to topple forward and crash into the pavement. Angela offered a shrug and a laugh before skipping off into the school grounds, leaving two boys, one Helga recognized as being the blonde from the playground, to help him to his feet with apologetic looks and a shake of their heads.

Helga found herself more affected by Angela's behaviour than she had imagined, and as she meandered her way toward the big doors and into the hallways, she considered just how horrible _she_ had been to a certain boy when she was younger.

Room 715 came into view sooner than Helga had expected, and shaking herself of the melancholy thoughts of the past, she prepared herself to display some professional optimism and she pushed the door open to meet Angela's teacher.

Helga's books hit the ground with loud thud, her head began to spin a little and her throat went dry. Fleetingly, she considered the possibility that she had simply never woken up this morning and this was a warped dream, but she knew from the familiar feeling of her heart beating against her ribcage that this was indeed real life. For the first time in twelve years, Helga Pataki was looking directly into the warm emerald eyes of Arnold Shortman, who was currently looking at her with mild concern considering she had just decorated his classroom floor with her note paper.

"Good morning..." he began, with a deeper voice than the last time she had heard him speak, and that alone sent a far too familiar tingle surging through her body, "Oh, let me help you with those."

Perhaps it was simply instantaneous by now, because Helga immediately managed to snap back a determined, "No, I can pick them up myself." and immediately she crouched to the floor and bundled up the loose papers and books as fast as she could.

Arnold looked curiously at her for a moment, but decided to let her do as she wished, and thus waited for her to completely finish collecting her books and stand before him again before he continued. "I assume you're the child psychologist Principal Wartz mentioned wished to talk with me about a student?" he began politely, motioning toward the chair by his desk.

"Yes." Helga replied simply, making her way into the empty chair whilst Arnold made himself comfortable in the large rolling chair behind his desk. Finally, Helga had her bearings enough to realise that he plainly did not recognise her at all, and before she could consider whether that made her glad or offended, he began to talk again.

"Angela..." he offered confidently, "I assume?"

Helga managed a small laugh at that, "Yes, Angela." she confirmed, now feeling at least a little more confident considering her identity was currently secret, "I observed specific behavioural issues that raised concern."

"Specific?" he repeated, looking at her intently, "Like what?"

Wincing, she considered her reply, rather unwilling to fully elaborate to _Arnold _of all people, on exactly _what_ Angela's behaviour was hiding. "Angela's social tendencies are somewhat of an area of expertise on my part." she finally responded.

Arnold simply nodded, seemingly happy with that explanation, and it almost reminded Helga of her childhood, when Arnold would accept any old watery excuse for her odd behaviour.

"I think this would be good for her..." he said thoughtfully, "I know that deep down she's a really great kid, but she just won't show it."

Helga honestly had nothing to say to that one, all she could do was bite her tongue at the horrible irony of this entire situation. With that, her mind drifted back to all the times Arnold had insisted the same thing to _her_ as a child, that deep down he was sure she was a good person.

"Oh, sorry!" Arnold's voice cut through the silence and pulled Helga from her memories, "I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Arnold Shortman."

Smiling weakly, Helga said softly, "I know."

Arnold seemed a little taken aback for a moment, before seeming to come to a realisation, "Right, I suppose the faculty must have informed you yesterday, Doctor...?"

Taking a deep, and surprisingly shaky breath considering she was supposed to be a grown woman, Helga smirked and said, "Pataki... Doctor Pataki."

Certainly, Helga hadn't quite imagined that this would cause Arnold to splutter and begin choking on the sip of coffee he had just attempted to take, but nonetheless it did and only after a solid two minutes of clearing his throat was he able to look up at her and say, "Helga?"

"You got it." she confirmed, a little worried by his initial reaction.

"Wow." he said, motioning toward her with wide eyes, "You look... wow."

Shifting awkwardly in her seat, Helga managed an "Oh... thanks." in return.

Arnold, who was still gazing at her like she was some kind of miracle, began to speak slowly and softly, "After you left in seventh grade, I didn't think I'd ever see you again..."

Helga shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, despite identifying the fact that not seeing Arnold again had in fact been her paramount fear when she had moved twelve years ago, "I certainly never planned to return to Hillwood..." she explained, "but that changed last year."

Raising an eyebrow at her, he asked, "Why?"

"I received an offer I couldn't refuse from an old friend." she stated simply, not willing to enter a discussion with him in regards to who Dr Bliss was, how she knew her and _why_ she would have moved back to Hillwood for her.

Arnold nodded slightly in understanding, but was clearly bemused by the situation.

Helga, who had been scanning the classroom in a desperate search for a topic change, suddenly remembered an interesting element of her elementary school days and turned back to face Arnold, "Hey, is Angela... uh, creative or particularly, ah.. 'good' at anything in particular?"

"Yeah, she paints and draws a lot." Arnold responded with a small smile, "Very abstract stuff, but a _lot _of hearts..."

"Do you have any I could see?" she wondered, her eyes searching the expanse of his desk.

Quickly nodding, Arnold leant over toward a tall cabinet and pulled out a small canvas, "This one is Angela's." he assured her as he handed the painting over, "She never puts her name on things... actually, she aggressively demanded my silence in regards to her submissions on the very first day of school."

Helga shrugged a little, she had certainly noticed the absence of a name on the painting, but she had already understood why. Arnold seemed to watch Helga patiently as she cast her eyes over Angela's latest piece of artwork. Seemingly random splodges were dotted all around the canvas, amongst messy swirls of brown and a few perfectly painted red hearts. Helga smiled softly at the painting, with the splodges like big blue eyes and the swirls like curls in a certain someone's brown hair.

Arnold looked curiously at her as she handed the painting back, a small smile still on her lips, "Do you understand it?" he asked, "Because I never do."

"Of course I understand it." Helga smirked, feeling that good old Pataki confidence rushing back, "Understanding kids like Angela is my job."

Unfortunately, she hadn't been prepared for Arnold's next question, "Well, what _does_ it mean?"

Helga panicked, and was instantly reminded of the overall problem with this situation, a problem which she was uncertain she could stand to face. "Ah, look the bell is about to ring and I've got an important phone call to make, I guess I'll see you around." she said quickly, grabbing for her notes and turning to leave the classroom.

Arnold looked at her a little strangely, but settled for a friendly smile as she reached for the door, "Okay, it was good to see you again Helga." he said, and Helga inwardly cursed him for his never-ending sweet and caring words.

Helga took a moment to catch her breath as the door of Room 715 closed behind her, and she darted her eyes around the hallway before settling her gaze on her old 'office'. Almost laughing at the fact that, as a fully grown adult here she was sneaking herself into the Janitors Closet again, Helga made her way into the safety and security of the room before pulling out her cell phone and dialing a very familiar number.

"Helga?" Dr Bliss' voice came through the phone, "I thought you had a meeting this morning.."

Helga, deciding to skip the small talk and get straight to the point, as usual, immediately shouted down the receiver, "I cannot take this case!"

Bliss, who had been the one to _insist_ to the school board that Helga, despite her age, would be the perfect candidate for her replacement was now a little baffled by how rattled her former patient and now colleague and partner had suddenly become. "Why can you not, Helga?" she asked patiently.

"Okay, here's the deal doc..." Helga began with a small growl, "_Arnold_ is her teacher."

From the other end of the phone, Helga heard a small sigh, "Ah..." Bliss said calmly, "So he's back from vacation?"

Helga immediately pulled the phone from her ear to stare at it with absolute horror, "You _knew _he worked at PS118?" she practically screamed.

"Yes." Bliss confirmed, "Yes, I did."

Grumbling, Helga paced backward and forward a little before managing to lower her tone a little and enquire honestly, "Are you _trying_ to kill me here?"

Bliss sighed, "Helga, I may have been aware that Arnold taught at PS118 but I certainly did not know he was Angela's teacher."

"I'm getting defensive again, aren't I?" Helga enquired sheepishly, she may have been fantastic at her job but that didn't mean she was so fantastic at controlling her own psychological downfalls.

"Yes." Bliss responded with amusement, "You're not nine anymore Helga, you can handle this."

Helga scoffed a little, "In any other case, I might agree with you..."

"What exactly do you mean by that?" her mentor, friend and former, or maybe semi-current, therapist asked her.

"Ten year old girl, violent and antisocial tendencies..." Helga began, letting the information sink in, "Very artistic... flicks objects at a specific boy in the second row."

"Oh, I see..." Bliss said softly, "And because of the new student confidentiality laws regarding school psychologists and teachers, if you were to broach the subject with her, Arnold would need to be informed."

"Yes!" Helga cried out, happy that they had finally arrived at the very heart of the issue, "And then there in his face is the glaringly obvious truth about _his _childhood... not even Arnold would be dense enough to miss the connection."

Bliss was silent for a few moments, and Helga immediately realised she probably wasn't going to like what the older woman had to say, "Helga, you have the chance to change this girls life." her mentor reminded her, "Angela could overcome this, make something of herself - just like you did..."

Sighing, Helga twirled a lock of her long blonde hair around her index finger, she _had _changed, heck, the soft girly hair and the hint of bronzer on her cheeks was physical _proof_ of the fact that Helga G. Pataki had learnt to embrace her natural beauty inside _and_ out. "I know." she admitted slowly.

"What's more important to you..." Bliss pushed, "Helping Angela overcome her difficult childhood, or trying to cover up your own?"

Helga groaned, "Helping Angela." she replied honestly.

Bliss chuckled slightly into the receiver, something that the rather serious woman didn't do very often, "I think you made the right decision." she said happily.

"I hate it how you get at my mushy good-hearted core and make me do things for the best." Helga whined pitifully.

"Honestly Helga..." Bliss began, "I'm a psychologist, don't lie to me, I know you certainly do not hate it."

Laughing a little, Helga summoned her most convincing annoyed tone and replied, "Yeah, yeah... I'll see you in the office later today, bye." and promptly ended the call.

Helga cast her eyes around the familiar shadows of the Janitor's Closet, the cabinets filled with supplies and the unstable wooden desk in the very corner. "Helga, you can do this." she said hopefully to herself, "Angela needs your help... even though she doesn't want it. Who cares if the Football Head figures it all out anyway, it's in the past, it's all in the past."

Despite feeling a little strange after completing her first little monologue pep-talk in years, Helga smiled at her new-found confidence toward the situation, straightened her fitted black jacket and walked proudly into the corridors.


	3. My Umbrella Project

Angela Sanderson stormed into Prinipal Wartz' office after Tuesday's morning recess with a look of utmost frustration on her face, and with a pained sigh she grumbled at the three adults who had summoned her there, "If this is about hitting that kid in the face with my lunch tray, then, he deserved it." she announced, flopping down into the empty wooden seat in front of Wartz's desk.

Principal Wartz, who had initially been a little taken aback by the young girl's entrance to the room, now reached for his thick and worn copy of the latest school constitution. "Miss Sanderson..." he warned her, "Need I remind you that physical violence of that nature is in _direct _violation of school policy?"

Helga watched as Arnold glanced between the school Principal and his young student, "Angela..." he began with a small sigh, "Who did you hit?"

"Evan." Angela admitted nonchalantly, without missing a beat, "He deserved it."

Helga looked toward Arnold with an eyebrow raised, "Who is Evan?"

Arnold turned his gaze to focus on her, and Helga immediately deduced that avoiding eye-contact with him for the rest of her duration at PS118 was probably going to be a necessity in regards to keeping her own sanity.

"Evan is a classmate..." he began to explain, in that deep and melodic older version of the voice Helga remembered from grade school, something that she was still getting used to, "He wears an orange sweater... has braces..."

"Oh." Helga said, in a higher pitched voice than she would have liked, before turning back toward Angela, "The one who always walks up to you?"

Angela, who had so far been watching this interaction with great interest, now simply folded her arms across her chest and let out a huff of air, "Exactly." she confirmed grumpily, "And that deserves punishment."

True to form, Arnold was now looking at Angela with that all-too-familiar look of concern, "Angela, he's only trying to be nice." he reminded her gently.

Principal Wartz however, who was still clutching at the pile of regulations, was unwilling to be quite as understanding about the situation, "You see young lady, it's this kind of behaviour that got you into this mess!" he griped.

Helga wondered briefly what on _earth_ had gone so wrong in the older man's childhood that had led him to an obsession with tiny toy animals and schoolyard politics. Actually, the mere implication that one of PS118's 'fine students' was in need of any kind of psychological guidance irritated the man no end – Helga still remembered it plainly from when _she_ was the little girl in this situation.

"This is not a mess." Arnold quickly reminded the older man with an uncharacteristic frown.

Helga stepped forward, toward the scowling, and now slightly bemused, dark haired student and began to explain the _real_ reason for her visit to the principal's office, "Angela, I think you would benefit from somebody to talk to." she explained carefully, "You can come by my office on Wednesday afternoons."

Angela immediately looked displeased at the suggestion, not that Helga had expected any less, and snappily she retorted, "Nuh uh, no way am I talking to the brain doctor!"

"I'm afraid that is too bad, young lady." Wartz scolded, "You need to be punished for your actions."

At that point, Helga almost entertained the notion of simply banding together with Angela and knocking Wartz down a few pegs, lord knows the angsty little girl inside of her absolutely wanted to. Instead, she settled for rolling her eyes at his display, "This isn't a punishment, Wartz."

Arnold, who seemed rather determined at this point, looked back over at Angela and informed her firmly, "I will call your parents and notify them of the sessions."

Not surprisingly to Helga, this didn't go down well with the young girl, who scoffed loudly at her teacher, "Oh _right_, good luck with that, it'll be a miracle if they're even home to answer the phone."

Sensing the perfect opening, Helga kneeled slightly beside Angela, ensuring they were now on the same height level, "You know, Angela, the best thing about being able to come by my office on Wednesday is that, you don't have to go straight home after school."

Angela turned to face her, a pensive but interested look on her face, which prompted Helga to continue, "That's an entire extra hour, we could even make it an hour and a half, if you wanted."

Impressively, Angela raised a hand to her face in thought, but was unwilling accept just yet, "What else you got lady?" she enquired smugly.

Smiling at the challenge, Helga continued "Oh, well my office has a cool couch and a whole wall of books..." and after pausing, and thinking things over for a quick moment, she added, "And yes, I have read them all."

Angela raised an eyebrow at her, probably wondering how the blonde woman had managed to read her mind, but she smiled, "Did you _write _any of them?" she asked next, a little smirk coming to her lips.

"Only three of them." Helga said with a bashful shrug, as she noticed Arnold's eyes immediately snap in her general direction, accompanied by an expression that reflected shock and a little something else that Helga couldn't quite put her finger on.

"You've written books?" he finally asked, "I didn't k-"

Helga's hand immediately flew into the air, waving him off abruptly and causing him to discontinue his line of questioning. She couldn't help but grin a little that even after twelve years, she seemed to retain some sort of control over him, just like the good old days – or the bad old days, depending on how you looked at it.

Apparently, Angela as also amused by this, "I like your style." she said contemplatively, as Arnold rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "Okay, lady, you can shrink me down on Wednesdays." the small black-haired terror eventually consented.

Coolly, Helga extended a hand toward her, "Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Sanderson." she said graciously, "I will see you Wednesday."

"Good, good." muttered a voice from behind them, and they all looked over to see Principal Wartz with two small elephant toys clutched in his hands, "It's all sorted out, now vacate my office."

Needing no further invitation, Angela promptly lifted herself from the seat and scurried out into the hallway, more than likely rushing off to cause some kind of trouble. Or, maybe to crawl underneath a bench and sing a certain someone's praises. Helga couldn't be entirely sure.

Helga eyed the aging principal, and his animal friends, with a knowing stare before looking back toward Arnold, who was shaking his head at the very same thing.

"Teachers lounge?" Arnold suddenly spoke up, shifting to face her with a beautiful and hopeful expression. Helga committed the sight of Arnold looking like that to memory, and nodded calmly, following him from the office and out into the hallway.

No more than three steps had been taken toward their intended destination, when Arnold cleared his throat and said levelly, "So, what are your books about?"

Laughing, a little nervously, Helga simply responded "Nothing fancy." and hoped he might drop the discussion.

Of course, she should have known better than to think Arnold, _her Arnold_, would ever grow out of that strong curiosity he'd always possessed, "What kind of nothing fancy?"

Helga, now certainly feeling she was about to lose this 'battle', reverted to the classic tactic of simply staring him down – although, these days, she was actually staring _up_ at him.

Arnold continued, unaffected by her glare, "I could just Google it, you know..." he mentioned playfully.

Letting out a deep sigh, she readied herself, "Okay, the first one I wrote was actually a parenting book..."

"Oh..." he said, looking at her with questioning eyes, "What's it called?"

"Swept Under The Rug." she revealed slowly, "I guess you could say it's a guide to avoiding neglectful parenting habits."

Arnold smiled warily at her for a few extended moments, but thankfully didn't dwell on the subject, "Sounds great." he said honestly, sending a little rush happiness through Helga's body, "What was the next one you wrote?"

Helga managed a legitimate smile at that one, and she rolled her eyes, "Oh, that would be my novel." she said with a chuckle, "I honestly didn't even think it was worth getting published, but, I guess you could say it became pretty popular."

"Come on Helga..." he said, with a little laugh, "What is it called?"

She sighed, knowing he would have heard of it, "It's called One First Last Kiss..." she admitted softly.

Suddenly, Helga realised that Arnold was no longer walking by her side, in fact he had stopped dead a few paces behind her and was looking at her in absolute awe. "Wait, you're telling me _you _wrote One First Last Kiss?" he asked incredulously, "Helga, that was on the best sellers list for weeks, Suzie Kokoschka read it over and over for months!"

Attempting to play it off, as usual, Helga simply shrugged at him, hoping that he would soon recover from his shock and begin moving again.

Arnold shook his head slightly, "How could I have not know you wrote it?" he muttered a little, almost as though he was asking _himself _the question.

"Well, not many people do know." she informed him, "I didn't ever have my name placed as the writer, technically speaking, the book's author is a 'mystery'."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "So, an anonymous type thing?" he asked cheerfully.

Helga cringed a little at the mention of '_anonymous_' writing, but, at that moment it dawned on her that had been _exactly _what she had done. History seemed to have a habit of repeating itself around here, and she still wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"Yeah..." she finally responded, "I guess so."

Arnold picked up the pace again, not seeming to notice her adverse reaction to the word anonymous, as they moved once more toward the teachers' lounge, "So, what was the most recent masterpiece?" he said with a bright smile.

Helga now took a deep breath, somewhere between Arnold walking close by her side, that heart-melting smile and the reality of her motivation for her most recent publication, she had found herself feeling incredibly dizzy. "It was released two months ago, I suppose you could call it a self help book..." she explained carefully, "It's called... 'The Umbrella Project'."

"General self help, or something specific?" Arnold asked her, definitely unaware of the small heart attack the blonde psychologist to his left hand side was currently experiencing.

"Learning to live for yourself." she smiled weakly, "Not, ah, relying on your 'umbrella', so as to speak..."

Arnold smirked mischievously, "So, don't rely on intimate objects?" he teased, instantly making Helga want to grab him in a vice-grip hug for his absolute adorableness _and _for lightening a tense mood he hadn't even been aware had been created.

Punching him playfully, Helga narrowed her eyes for full effect and shot back, "It's a metaphor... you _dolt_!"

Arnold chuckled a little, rubbing his 'sore arm' dramatically, and causing a few small giggles to escape Helga's lips. Finally, they arrived at the door to the teachers' lounge, and as he held the door open for her, she pinched herself a little on the arm _just_ to check. Alas, it wasn't a dream and Helga had to bite her lip a little, because she felt like she was ten years old again.

* * *

**A/N:** Ten points to everybody who understands the 'reference' as to why Helga's book is called 'Swept Under The Rug', and minus one hundred points if you _don't _understand why the other one is called the 'Umbrella Project' ;)


	4. Since She's Been Gone

Angela Sanderson was nervous, and Helga could practically _feel_ the tension radiating from the fiery young girl as she sat in class observing her behaviour. Truthfully, she hadn't been expecting to study Angela any further; after all, she'd seen everything she needed to within the first half-an-hour of arriving at PS118. But, after completing her rounds of the elementary school that morning, and successfully identifying two or three children whose parents might require a phone call regarding some after school sessions, Helga found herself back in Room 715. No doubt, it had a lot to do with who _taught_ the fifth grade class and not an entire lot to do with acquiring further analysis on Angela, but Helga didn't like to think too much about that.

Nonetheless, Helga was currently seated as gracefully as possible at the front of the classroom, watching as Angela restlessly tapped her pencil against her desk and played with the cuffs of her sweater. Helga could understand, after all, she too had been rather determined to hide her secrets away from Dr Bliss when she first began therapy at nine years old. So, Angela indeed proving how intelligent she actually was, and indicating that the young girl herself even realised how obvious she was probably being, Angela had settled for focussing her insults on the tall boy in the front row today, the one she referred to as '_Meatball_'.

Helga certainly had to commend the dark-haired girl's self-control, because she varied her secretive loving glances at the curly haired boy nicely, and only dared to look when she believed Helga to no longer be paying attention. Which mustn't have proven _entirely_ difficult because Helga probably _had_ missed most of the subtle glances, considering she was regularly finding herself distracted by admiring Arnold's physique, and then mentally scolding herself for it seconds later.

By the time the recess bell sounded, Angela had been watching the clock closely for a solid fifteen minutes, and attempted to bolt from the classroom at the very first opportunity. Instead, the blue eyed boy approached her as she attempted her escape, and Helga faintly heard him enquire as to whether she had been feeling okay this morning, considering the lack of thrown objects he had encountered during the lessons so far. Angela, whose eyes had flown wide open, had chanced a nervous glance over in Helga's direction before very slowly informing the curly haired young man that she was absolutely fine. At this, the poor boy had looked rather perplexed and Angela had taken his silence as chance to run off into the hallway. Helga might have laughed at the irony, if it weren't for the fact that the double dose of nostalgia she'd been receiving since accepting this position was starting to make her feel anxious.

And, speaking of things that made Helga anxious, Arnold had dropped his whiteboard markers and proceeded to sit down at his desk, where he was now looking over at her with his perfect green eyes.

"Who is the boy with the curly brown hair, the one who just left the classroom?" she began, suddenly realising that knowing his name may come in handy during Angela's impeding therapy session, although, she was well aware that name or not, Angela would certainly know who she was referring to anyway.

Arnold frowned a little, clearly unsure of why she would be asking, "That's Dean, he's a nice kid." he answered, before adding on a quick, "Why?"

"Oh I bet he is.." Helga smirked, "I just noticed he and Angela don't seem to cohabitate peacefully."

He nodded grimly in agreement, "They get into arguments every so often, which is out of character for Dean..." Arnold mused, looking a little puzzled by the situation, "I suppose she just gets too much for him."

"Do you have any idea why Angela seems to take her frustration out on him in particular?" Helga asked tactfully, intending to determine whether the dense ol' football head had come any farther in his understandings of romantic subtleties over the past decade or so.

Arnold shook his head, immediately giving Helga her answer, "I think Angela just honestly doesn't really get along with him, they are very different." he blindly deduced.

Helga was forced to let out a little sigh, no wonder why he always struggled with women when they were younger, which brought about an interesting concern – was he with somebody now, was he happily married to Miss Perfect with fifteen gorgeous auburn haired football-headed offspring? She decided to push that thought from her mind for the current moment, and maybe to slyly introduce the topic at a later date. Instead, she let out a small laugh and in response to his utterly misguided assumption she said, "You know what Shortman, you're in for a surprise."

"Shortman?" Arnold queried with a playful smile, "That's a new one for you, I thought it was 'Football Head'?"

Shrugging, she replied flippantly, "Okay, well if that's what you want... Football Head."

Arnold laughed a little, in that beautiful way she had always adored, "I guess I wouldn't have it any other way." he responded, and Helga _felt _her heartbeat double instantly.

If she was alone, she possibly might have launched into a dreamy monologue, but remembering her current company, she pushed forward onto the next conversation topic, "So, _Arnoldo_, what have you been doing with yourself for the past twelve years?" and she was rather pleased with herself as she was certain she had managed to ask the question quite coolly.

Arnold simply laughed happily again, which didn't help one tiny bit, "Wow, Arnoldo, I forgot about that one." he began, before looking suddenly thoughtful, as though he was attempting to dredge up the previous twelve years from the depths of his memories, "Well, everybody around here kinda kept doing the same things as always – you know, playing baseball, running around after urban legends and going to school."

"Baseball?" Helga repeated with a wave of her hand, "Without your legendary catcher? Must have been tough!" she teased, with a gleam in her eyes, she had missed games in Gerald Field _desperately_ after moving away.

"Well, Harold certainly thought it was, he complained about it every game for at least the first year." he informed her.

Being rather taken aback by this, Helga cocked her head to the side, and just for confirmation she asked, "Harold... _missed _me?"

Arnold grinned, "Yeah, he did... but he said to us if anybody ever told you about it – he'd pound us." and with that he let out a little snicker, as though maybe by that stage nobody had really taken Harold's pounding threat very seriously, "Phoebe missed you too, but, you would know that – you two kept in contact, right?"

Helga nodded in confirmation, Phoebe had remained her best friend throughout the years, they were just as close now, if not closer, than they had always been. "I still cannot believe her and Tall Hair Boy never got together!" she lamented, and rather painfully too, for she had _never_ understood why their seemingly inevitable romance had never come to fruition.

Thankfully, Arnold seemed to agree with her because he rolled his eyes, "You know, we tried _so _hard in high school to make them admit it..." he said with an exasperated sigh, "but they were both so shy about it."

"_I_ had to put up with 3am phone calls from Phoebe gushing about how Gerald said her liked her hair that day and how she wasn't entirely sure what that could _possibly_ mean!" Helga scoffed, "I tried to tell her every single time that the boy had been into her since _at least_ the third grade but she just wouldn't listen."

Arnold smiled, "Not just since third grade... he told me once he'd had a crush on her since _pre-school_." and _that_ word, coupled with the way he said it made Helga flinch a little, "I couldn't believe he wouldn't talk to her about it, I mean, _all_ those years and he never said a word..."

Figuring her clipboard would make a suitable distraction for the uncomfortable antsy feeling she was currently experiencing, Helga lifted the days notes from her lap and cleared her throat, whilst pretending to gaze over the note paper. Another subject change was certainly in order, "So... what did you do after high school?"

Mentioning nothing of her sudden topic change, nor sudden preoccupation with her papers, Arnold thankfully accepted the new topic, "I went to Hillwood University with Gerald and studied teaching." he explained, "I graduated two years ago."

"Did you come straight to PS118?" Helga asked, making useless scribbles on her note paper.

Arnold shook his head, "No, I was at PS115 initially, but it was a bit of a trip and I wanted to be close-by, just in case anything ever happened to my grandparents, so I transferred to PS118 at the beginning of this school year."

Brightening at the mere mention of Arnold's grandparents, two people she honestly respected at least ten times more than her own parental figures, Helga lowered the useless clipboard and shifted her gaze back toward Arnold, "Your grandparents still kicking, hey?" she said with a smile, "You know, I think they'll outlive us all..."

Soft chuckling met her ears, "I'm starting to think maybe they will." he said cheerfully, which indicated to Helga that his beloved grandparents must have still been fairing well health wise.

"How old are they now?" she wondered aloud.

"96..." he said, before looking her up and down with an odd expression, "You know what, you should come to the boarding house and see them sometime...Grandpa always liked you."

Helga raised an eyebrow, "He hardly knew me..."

Arnold simply shrugged, "Yeah, that's what I thought too... but he still mentions you from time to time, says he admired your 'determination' or something like that."

Oh, so _that_ was what it was all about, well she certainly couldn't deny that during the moments her and Phil had interacted, she was almost always doing something with 'determination' – or rather, activities she liked to refer to as 'secret keeping emergencies'. "Yeah..." she said softly, and despite the fact that she knew it was probably a terrible idea, she couldn't help but say, "I would like to see them again, maybe I _will_ come by sometime."


	5. Swept Under The Rug

Helga blinked and lifted her eyes from the transcript of her next book to peer up at the doorway, which had just made a short yet distinct creaking sound, as though it were being opened. Behind the door, stood the figure of a ten year old girl, drowning in a large brown trench coat, and despite all her efforts, Helga could not help but laugh at the sight.

Angela growled and narrowed her big brown eyes, "What's so funny lady?" she demanded to know, as she kicked the office door shut behind her.

"You know..." Helga began carefully, closing her laptop and focussing her full attention on the angry young girl, "I did the same thing when I went to my first session... arrived in a big trench coat."

The younger girl's face softened a little, and she shrugged the overwhelmingly large coat from her shoulders, before carefully taking a seat on the long black couch. "You did therapy too?" she frowned.

Helga nodded, "I was nine, I had a lot of anger issues." she explained, as she drew out her favourite clipboard and pen from the top drawer of her antique wooden desk.

"So, you were really mean to people?" Angela questioned, almost immediately, raising an eyebrow at the older woman.

"Yes." Helga confirmed, "One person in particular."

At this, Angela wriggled in her previously comfortable spot on the lounge, and looked around the office nervously, "Oh really." she snapped, "Why?"

Knowing this was definitely not the time to approach the subject, Helga simply waved her question off casually, "We can discuss it later." she offered, and at once the young girl seemed to find her position on the couch comfortable once more.

"Where are the books you wrote?" Angela wondered, her eyes roaming the expanse of the incredibly large bookshelf situated on the far wall of Helga's office.

Wandering over toward the books, Helga scanned the very top row, before her eyes fell upon her three personal publications and, with a little tap to clear the dust from the covers, she brought them down. "Here." she offered, placing the books onto the coffee table between her chair and the lounge Angela had situated herself upon, and waiting for the young girl to begin her inevitable line of questioning.

"Woah..." she muttered, rolling up the sleeves of her oversized green sweater, and lifting '_The Umbrella Project _'onto her lap, "This one is huge"

Helga watched her expression carefully, as she flipped through the first pages, reading diligently and stopping to ponder the words every so often, after only the fifth page the young girl promptly flipped the book shut and looked up at Helga with a questioning gaze.

"So... who _is_ your umbrella?" she said smartly.

Helga, who was not in the least surprised by the question, nor the number of pages it took for her to ask it, shot her an impressed smile, "You're very astute for a ten year old."

To that, Angela rolled her eyes, "Yeah, well, I'm smart." she gladly informed the older woman.

"I've noticed." Helga simply replied, now picking up '_Swept Under The Rug'_ and holding it out toward her, "What do you think of this book?"

Angela eyed the book sceptically, possibly because it was so much smaller than '_The Umbrella Project'_, but really, in Helga's defence, it didn't _need _to be as long. Over the years she'd discovered one very important thing, avoiding neglectful parenting was really quite a _simple _feat, and it could easily be explained in three hundred and fifty five pages. Learning to live without the boy with the cornflower hair, however, thoroughly exhausted nine hundred and eighty eight pages filled with umbrella clichés and, she had a feeling, over the next few months; she'd probably need to write a sequel.

Snapping herself from the painful possibility of having to publish _'The Umbrella Project II: Relapse'_, Helga noticed Angela had flipped the smaller book over and was currently engrossed in reading through the blurb.

"Ugh." the girl eventually groaned, "My _life_."

Helga smiled softly, "Mine too." a comment which earned her the immediate attention, and curious stare, of the dark haired ten year old.

"My mother was very, ah, _inattentive_ as a parent when I was growing up." Helga began to explain, as Angela locked her eyes to her, "Always falling asleep behind the couch or blending up fruit drinks she couldn't finish. My _father_ was a workaholic blowhard, and he simply never had time for me, unless it was to remind me how perfect my older sister Olga was. Olga was always winning _something_, and looked like she just stepped out of a magazine."

Angela scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Yeah?" she said, "Well at least you only have _one_ sibling."

Helga raised an eyebrow, now they were getting somewhere, "How many do you have?"

"Three." the girl sighed, "Three _older _brothers. Two of them moved out of home, but they're still around a lot, mostly to get their laundry done."

"Do your parents like your older brothers?" Helga prompted, eliciting a deep scowl from the fifth grade terror.

"Oh, they _love _my brothers." Angela griped, pushing her shoulders back and putting on a gruff voice to imitate her father, "_'Sanderson boys, we're built tough_'." she punched at the cover of Helga's book, "Heck, if I was a boy they'd probably have kept going."

Helga considered briefly saving her book from Angela's grip, but decided it was probably being put to better use as a punching bag than it ever was as a dust collector on the top of her bookshelf. "So, your dad spends a lot of time with your brothers then?" she asked.

"Yeah, guess so." Angela shrugged, "Not as much time as he spends watching basketball alone, or playing golf with his friends, though. He's always off playing golf, even mom hates it... when she's actually home to _notice_."

Eying the book, now slightly buckled in the girls hands, Helga decided that if she'd known Angela a few years earlier she'd probably have entirely dedicated '_Swept Under The Rug'_ to her. "Okay, so your mom is out a lot." Helga mused, scribbling a few things down onto her notepaper, "What does she do?"

A small sigh escaped the girl, "Works for a bank on forty third street, she's a manager or something. Most nights she's there so late, she doesn't even fix us dinner."

Nodding in understanding, Helga decided to switch the subject a little, "Tell me more about your brothers, do you get along with them?"

Angela considered the question for a moment, and stood to pace around the room a little, "Mark is okay but he lives the farthest away and he's in college so he's busy a lot." she turned to face Helga again, "Steve and Patrick aren't really interested in me unless I'll play football with them in the back yard."

"Okay." Helga noted, jotting down a few extra keywords with her trusty purple pen, which she still used despite her _own_ _book_ advising against continual use of objects of nostalgia, "Do you _like _sports?"

"Yeah, sort of, not football so much, I don't like getting _too_ dirty but tennis is fun." she responded coolly, now staring out the large window over the city.

Helga tapped the pen against her notepad a little, "Do you play tennis with your friends?" she asked carefully, as of yet she wasn't entirely certain if Angela _had_ any friends.

Angela frowned a little, "Yeah, sometimes... they play without me a lot though, probably because I'm bossy." and with that, she twisted her body a little to look over her shoulder at Helga, "Did _you_ have many friends when you were young?"

Shaking her head, and wondering how to quite explain the strange dynamic of her childhood friendship circle to the girl, Helga began, "Not a lot I would have truly regarded as 'friends', but, our classmates hung out together a lot, I don't know whether they ever really _liked_ having me there, but I wasn't one to take no for an answer."

The small girl considered this for a moment, and looked back out the window, "What about a best friend, did you have a best friend?"

"Yes, her name was Phoebe." Helga said, with a little shake of her head at the memories of her and Phoebe as grade school kids, "I wasn't so nice to her when we were young, but she always stood by me, _still_ does."

This particular comment seemed to brighten Angela's mood, and the girl stepped away from the window and headed back toward the couch, "So, she's still your best friend?" she wondered hopefully.

Nodding in confirmation, Helga shifted forward a little in her seat, "Who is your best friend?"

"Oh." Angela hummed, her eyes flicking away from Helga's to focus on the ground, "Her name is Emma, she's the girl with the red hair, the really quiet one."

"You seem worried about Emma, is something wrong between the two of you?" Helga asked, raising an eyebrow in concern.

Without so much as a word, Angela's facial expression spoke volumes, but she spoke anyway, "Um, I guess not, but Emma and this boy in our class, Johnny, well I think they _like_ like each other and..." she trailed off, seemingly lost in thought over the issue.

"You're scared that maybe one day she'll care more for him, than she does for you?" Helga said, with a knowing smirk, before fully checking that irony was still in full effect by asking, "Is Johnny best friends with Dean by any chance?"

Angela, who was now sitting bolt upright, her face slightly drained of colour, managed to croak out a panicked, "How did you know?" followed by an even _more _panicked, "And how do you know who Dean is?"

Helga shrugged casually, "Your teacher mentioned him to me, that's all." she assured her, "Now, should we talk about Johnny?"

Angela nodded weakly, still sitting straight and unmoving on the couch, but apparently able to resume regular breathing at this point.

"Do you get along with Johnny?" Helga enquired, knowing full and well what the answer would be.

As if on cue, Angela's face screwed up a little, "No, not really." she grumbled, before adding, "He has a funny nose."

"Angela, I think if you tried to mend things with Johnny a little, you'd discover you don't dislike him as much as you thought you did." Helga knowingly advised, "And, then Emma would be able to spend time with both of you." she paused a moment, to let the information register fully to the girl on the lounge, before going in for the kill, "I'm sure Dean would appreciate it too."

Clearly impressed with this idea, yet determined to hide her '_deepest darkest secret_', Angela bit her lip before slowly managing a calm even tone, "Okay, maybe I should."

"I think you'll do just fine." Helga assured her, as she took a quick glance at the big round clock above her desk, which currently indicated that they had already exhausted their allotted time for this afternoon.

Angela must have noticed too, not surprisingly, because she stood awkwardly and with great difficulty, spat out, "Ummm, thanks, Dr. Pataki."

Helga stood too, walking slowly toward the door of her office with the young girl following closely behind, "Thank you, Angela." she smiled, opening the door for the younger girl to exit, "But, you can just call me Helga." she offered. Firstly, the dark haired girl eyed her strangely, but after a moment's thought, she nodded at the suggestion, and quickly flew out of the room and toward the elevator.


	6. Puzzle Pieces

Helga looked down at the small, round doorknob in utter disappointment, as though turning it and entering classroom 715 may just kill her. The tall blonde psychologist sighed knowing that as time, and Angela's sessions, went on these subsequent visits to fill Arnold in on what had been discussed, would only get increasingly harder, and infinitely more awkward.

However, as Dr Bliss had so insistently reminded her, she was no longer a child, and the mature professionalism that she had become known for needed to prevail. So, shifting her small collection of papers safely onto her hip, Helga opened up the classroom door and made her entrance.

Arnold immediately snapped his head up from grading what looked to be math homework, and as his eyes met with Helga's, he smiled sweetly at her. Try as she might, and gosh did she try incredibly hard, Helga couldn't escape the reality that the smile sent a warm feeling through her chest and made her a little weak at the knees. Taking her own books advice, she resolved not to dwell on how she was currently feeling, and instead focus on maintaining calm and friendly conversation.

Luckily, being absolutely unaware of the inner battle Helga was having with herself, Arnold had shifted his attention to the notes she was carrying and kindly asked her, "How did your session with Angela go yesterday?"

Snapped from her pointless inner-debate, and thankful for it, Helga moved to sit by his desk, setting the notes out in front of her, "Better than expected, actually, considering it was the very first session." she happily reported, sifting through the paperwork until her eyes caught sight of the document entitled _'Angela Sanderson, (Wednesday) Session One'_, "This document details the relative aspects we will need to discuss."

Helga pulled his copy from the pile, and was about to pass it over to him, when she noticed that he was looking at her incredibly strangely. Actually, Helga, who had once been the absolute master of reading Arnold's various facial expressions, was entirely stumped as to what _this _could possibly mean. In fact, she was just about to ask whether she had something on her face, or if her hair was out of place, when Arnold spoke up again.

"You know, I always knew you were smart, Helga." he began happily, seemingly searching her face with his beautiful green eyes, "I'm taking _really_ smart... I'm happy that, at some point, you began to embrace it."

Helga blinked, and couldn't quite respond to that for a moment, because she was currently processing, and internally filing away the new information, that Arnold had been looking at her like he had because, well, he was _proud_ of her. Arnold was _impressed_ with what she had done with her life, and that alone made her want to clutch at that golden Arnold locket she no longer had, and pass out with a girlish swoon.

Wordlessly, she simply held his copy of Angela's notes up to him again, and this time he successfully took them and began to roam his eyes over the dot-points for discussion.

"Uh, thanks Arnold." Helga said awkwardly, in response to his compliment on her intelligence, and when he offered another amazing smile at her acknowledgement, she turned her attention back to discussing Angela, "I think a good topic to start with, would be her family."

"Okay." Arnold said slowly, placing the document onto the desk and giving her his full attention, "Are there problems at home?"

Considering this question for a moment, Helga suddenly pondered whether they would have ever made time to familiarize themselves with aspects of their daughters education, "Just a little off topic, Arnold, but have you ever met her parents?"

Arnold, as Helga unfortunately had expected, shook his head in response to that question, "No." he frowned, "I've never seen them at school events, and as for parent-teacher nights, they've always been too busy to attend."

Helga, who at this point was almost _growling_ at these people she had never even met, let out a pained noise of disapproval, "Ugh, those two _really_ need to read my book."

"I gather you're not referring to the romance novel?" Arnold grimanced.

Shaking her head sadly, and keeping her lips pursed slightly to hold in any unfair or vulgar words that might threaten to escape during her explanation, she continued, "Angela's parents are neglectful and, even if they're not fully aware of it, they are strongly conditioning Angela to believe she is not worth anybodies time."

Arnold sighed, now tapping his blue pen against the stack of unmarked maths sheets, "I never knew she had a bad home life."

Clearing her throat, and taking a deep breath just for good measure, Helga mustered the courage to look him directly in the eyes, "Attitude problems like Angela's always stem from a negative family environment." she revealed, trying her hardest not to wince as the words came out.

He looked her over curiously, his eyes widening a little as though he had just realised he had acquired a little puzzle piece in the '_figuring out Helga_' game, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he waited patiently for her to continue.

"Eventually, I'm going to have to organise a meeting with both of her parents." Helga said unenthusiastically, "But, I want to have a few more sessions with Angela before I do something like that."

Arnold nodded slowly, as though he was fully processing both his new found concern for Angela, and the piece of enlightenment on his childhood concern for Helga. "Was there anything else I needed to know?" he spoke up after a few moments, and Helga wondered whether she was being paranoid, or if that question seemed a little _double-ended._

Waving off her concern, and possible paranoia, she decided to move along to the subject of the young girls friends and classmates, "Angela is a little concerned about her friend, Emma, getting sick of her and she says the kids in the class don't like to hang out with her a lot, even though she said she understands _why_."

After hearing this, Arnold's predictable optimistic expression returned, "I encourage the kids to all spend time together, like we did during our childhood, but they don't seem to have the same group dynamic..." and then he added on confidently, "Or, not yet, anyway."

Unable to resist a small smile at both the good memories of the PS118 gang, _or _at that little positivity streak of Arnold's she had always adored, Helga remembered the discussion about childhood friends with Angela back in her office yesterday, "I mentioned our old gang to Angela, she seemed almost a little envious at how close we were."

Arnold nodded, and looked at her a little wistfully for a moment, before seemingly remembering something and moving forward a little in his chair, "Oh, I heard you'll be doing sessions with Cedric Stanton, from the second grade."

Raising an eyebrow, and briefly wondering how he knew that and why he would feel it so important to discuss, Helga checked to confirm if they were talking about the same kid, "Cedric Stanton... He's the very eccentric blonde boy who stole the handles from all the janitors brooms and mops on Monday, right?"

Chuckling, Arnold nodded again, "Yes, that's Cedric." and he smirked a little, before slyly adding, "I think you'll enjoy meeting _his _parents."

"Uh huh..." Helga said slowly, "And why might that be?"

"Foster parents, actually." Arnold corrected himself, before _vaguely_ responding to Helga's question, "According to Rhonda at the time, pregnancy wasn't fashionable, but helping out children in need definitely was, and once she saw Cedric, that was it, her mind was made up."

"Rhonda?" Helga blinked, trying hard to imagine Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, the _Princess_ herself, with a child in her care, "I guess that explains the outfits he wears. But, what about the erratic behaviour?"

Arnold smirked again, clearly enjoying drawing this out and being the one to push _her_ buttons for once, "I think you'll find he picked that up from his _other _guardian." he eventually revealed, shooting her a curious glance and letting the statement wash over her for a moment.

"No way..." she gasped, now fully aware of who Arnold was eluding to. Helga had always figured that if the day ever came when Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, of all people, realised _Curly_ _Gammelthorpe _would make her happy, then surely Helga and Arnold would be married and exchanging romantic words on the Riviera. But, she had over a decade ago, resigned herself to the knowledge that neither of those things would _ever _happen.

Arnold shrugged a little, "Doesn't seem so strange anymore, I guess." he said, "Gerald and I roomed with Thad in college, so we were just used to it."

Helga nodded in understanding, still feeling a little numb from the shock, and maybe a little disappointed that her theory about the Riviera hadn't actually worked out. However, after taking a moment to move on, in complete understanding, from the news, she began sifting through her papers atop the desk and pulled out a largely scribbled on piece of notepaper.

"Well, there was a boy in Mr Blackwell's fourth grade class who is infatuated with My Little Pony dolls..." she began slowly, her eyes flicking over the purple scrawls on the thinly ruled lines, "But, maybe I'll give Cedric next priority, I _would_ love to see Rhonda and Curly all coupled up."

Arnold, however, became a little distracted by her passing remark, as she had drawn a line between the two boys names, indicating a switch in their positions on her list, "My Little Pony... really?" he asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow at her.

"An overdeveloped connection to the dolls that probably resulted from losing a close bond with something, or probably _someone_, who he came to associate with My Little Pony." Helga explained casually, before remembering Arnold's fourth grade efforts with a certain young boy, and adding, "You know, like Chocolate Boy's addiction to chocolate."

His green eyes met with her own, and she felt her heart-rate pick up a little, "Wow, you're really good." he said kindly, worsening the heart-rate situation even further.

Miraculously managing to play it off with a trademark smirk, Helga responded, "Of course I'm good, I'm Helga G. Pataki." just like she would have, had this been twelve years ago.

"Right." Arnold chuckled, "How could I forget?"

Helga shrugged, "I have no idea, hair boy, considering I've told you _countless _times..." she teased, "I'm actually getting worried about your mental capacities, you know?"

"Still with the insults, Helga?" Arnold sighed, shaking his head at her in mock disbelief, "And here I was thinking we'd grown up."

Considering her slightly shaking hands, her mile a minute heartbeat and the strong urge to jump him, despite her better judgement, Helga was increasingly aware of two very important things. One, this conversation, and all associated witty banter, was quickly getting out of control... as far as _her _bodily reactions and ability to function were concerned. Two, book or no book, twelve years or not, Helga G. Pataki had always loved, and _would_ always love, Arnold Shortman and there was simply no escaping it.

So, with a little sigh, that was both a mix of nostalgia and fear, she quipped back, "Nope, still the same old Helga." and those words meant _so _much more than he would probably ever know.


	7. Angela, Emma, Johnny, Dean

It was early Wednesday morning, a week since her very first session with Angela and around eight hours until her second, and Doctor Helga Pataki, who was unfortunately not very well rested, all things considered, was making a quick visit to classroom 715 at PS118. In all honestly, she had debated the visit a little, on the one hand she _did _want to know if there had been any notable occurrences in Angela's classroom life over the five days following her last discussion with Arnold, but, on the other hand, it meant, well,_ talking to Arnold_.

Arnold, who as Helga quietly slipped into the classroom, was erasing the names of various cities from around the globe, from the large whiteboard at the front of the room. Helga's eyes settled on the first city on the list, that being Paris, and was lost in the memories of childhood fantasies she used to have involving the French capital. That was, until she noticed Arnold turn around and grin at her, and then say, "Long time no see." in his usual pleasant and beautiful voice.

Scoffing a little at that, she wondered if it was supposed to be a joke, and responded quickly, "It's only been _five _days, Football Head, and prior to that you managed to go twelve whole years."

"Yeah, well I don't plan on going that long ever again." Arnold chuckled back, before frowning a little and clearly feeling the need to explain himself, "Twelve years, that is. Five days was okay- boring, but okay."

Immediately feeling flustered, and distracted and puzzled and every other synonym for 'not quite functioning properly', Helga was reduced to mumbling an awkward, "Uhh..." in the interim, before she remembered what she had come to his classroom for in the first place, "So, I have my next session with Angela this afternoon." she finally managed to explain, clearing her throat a little as the bewilderment thankfully passed entirely, "I was just wondering how she'd been doing over the past week."

"Differently." he responded quickly, taking a seat in his chair and motioning for Helga to do the same in her usual seat nearby.

Despite sensing that he possibly wasn't done with his explanation, Arnold wasn't a one-word conversations kind of person by any means, Helga cut him off anyway, having to know one very important thing, "Good different, or bad different?"

Arnold, who hadn't seemed to mind her interruption in the slightest, not that he ever really minded _anything_ anybody did, considering his eternal patience and understanding, smiled a little "Good." he answered, "She's slightly friendlier I think, but I've noticed it's mainly toward one person in particular."

With great interest, Helga raised an eyebrow at this comment, "One in particular?" she repeated, pushing for a name.

"Yeah." Arnold mused, seeming to reflect and think things through for a moment, before asking, "Do you think she has a crush on Johnny Powell?"

Helga, unable to help herself, burst into a small fit of laughter and managed to ask, half legitimately wondering if he was just being ridiculous on purpose, "Johnny Powell, are you kidding me?"

Apparently, he wasn't, because he frowned in slight confusion at her reaction and subsequent question, "No..." he said slowly, "What's so funny?"

Calming herself down, mainly because continued hysterics on her behalf would have lead to _endless_ questions she wasn't quite sure she wanted to field, she shook her head a little, "Ah, Arnoldo, your powers of perception are just as horrible as I remember." she sighed, letting out one final little laugh.

Still looking a little bemused, his green eyes searched her face, "So, I guess I should take it that she _doesn't_ have a crush on Johnny?" he asked, just for final confirmation.

"No way." Helga responded, this time with a smile, "She hates his nose." and although she knew she was making this into a little game of indirect hints, much like she would have done back when they were kids, she could not have cared less.

Arnold rolled his eyes playfully at that comment, "Angela says she hates a lot of things." he pointed out, very seriously adding, "It's difficult to tell when she's actually telling the truth." and he, possibly not even consciously, shot her a _look_ for that one.

Actually, Helga almost felt like she owed him this, this entire experience and that maybe it was only fair that, through Angela, he figure out at least some of the motivations behind Helga's childhood behaviour, and their own strange childhood 'friendship'. Surely it had confused him no end, and as she'd grown older she'd realised that it possibly also bothered, maybe even upset, him back then. If it had, well then he was entitled, and she was willing to oblige, to some answers.

"Okay, well let's start with this then..." Helga suggested, "Emma and Johnny like each other and Angela's improved behaviour toward Johnny is something we discussed her doing, for her best friends sake."

"Oh, right." Arnold said, blinking in a little shock for a moment, probably at the fact that Helga herself had just dealt him the unabashed truth about something important, in two sentences or less, "That does make a lot of sense."

Helga, who was currently feeling a strange sense of elation and relief from being so honest with Arnold Shortman of all people, now smiled at the fact that Angela had readily accepted, and put into play, her suggestion to treat Johnny a little more fairly. "I'm happy she's being a little nicer, it may only be one person, but it's a start." she said, but was almost wondering if she should take it back, when Arnold's face fell and he frowned just a little at her positive observation.

"Yes, well..." he began slowly, almost like he truly didn't want to have to say what was coming next, "... what she makes up for with Johnny, she lacks with Dean."

Surprising even herself, Helga lurched forward at the mere mention of Dean's name, and gripped at the desk like it was a lifeline, "Dean?" was all she managed to blurt out in her current condition of distress, and she was certain her eyes were probably alarmingly wide.

Arnold, as was to be expected, had been quite taken aback by her reaction, and was now looking at her a little strangely, "Yes, Dean." he confirmed, his eyes remaining full of questions as he continued, "She's been worse than usual toward him." and with that, he looked at her thoughtfully, as though he wasn't entirely sure what to expect from her next.

Probably what he _didn't _expect to come next, was for Helga to let out a pained sigh, slump her shoulders and fall back into the chair and then proceed to groan about the entire ordeal. "I knew I should have at least tried to broach that subject during the first session." she mumbled pitifully, eyeing her clipboard with an unsettling glare, as though it were entirely her stationary's fault.

Arnold, who Helga assumed was now possibly even further confused than he previously had been, looked at her almost sadly and then, probably hoping it would make her feel better, assured her, "Well, it probably is better that Angela try being nicer to people she actually cares about first, and then move on to people she doesn't get along with."

Unfortunately, all the comment earned him was a stupefied look from the tall blonde woman, who was honestly wondering just _how_ he couldn't see that Angela didn't hate Dean _at all_. Instead of losing her marbles at him, which would have been her first reaction had this been twelve years ago, she said as calmly as possible, "Yes, that _does _tend to be a good idea."

Of course, she could not expect him to suddenly understand from that comment alone, but she had hoped maybe it would push his thoughts in the right direction. And, at the very least it seemed to make Arnold realise that Helga felt Angela and Dean's relationship was an important thing to work on, even if he still had no idea _why_.

"I guess, if you wanted to improve their friendship, maybe you could talk with Dean too?" Arnold suggested, simply trying to be helpful again, "Help him understand how to deal with her... I think he's getting pretty stressed out by all the pranks."

Helga had to roll her eyes at this, she simply had to, despite his good-natured intentions , "Dean doesn't need my help, actually, there's nothing I _can _do to help him." she paused for a moment, before adding, "Besides giving him the answers."

Nodding slowly, but still a little hesitant about her view-point on the issue, Arnold asked, "And you're not going to give him the answers because...?" and from there he trailed off, and waited patiently for Helga to fill in the blanks.

Helga sighed, and looked down at her hands, which were now fidgeting in her lap as she contemplated the best way to explain the situation, without properly '_explaining'_ the situation, "Arnold, there's a difference between needing guidance to help you resolve your problems, and simply not _knowing_ what the actual problem is in the first place."

"So, you're saying Angela knows what the problem is but can't fix it..." Arnold began, looking at her for confirmation that he was indeed understanding her correctly, which he received in the form of a firm nod of her head, "but Dean _doesn't _know what the problem is, and needs to figure it out?"

"_Exactly_, Football Head!" Helga exclaimed, almost excitedly, completely slipping out the old nickname in general conversation without hesitation, only to feel a little weird about it once she heard it escape her lips, "Angela knows the problem, and she knows the answer too, the problem is she doesn't know how to _handle_ knowing those things. Dean, on the other hand, either needs Angela to tell him or, with time and patience, he might even figure it out for himself."

Arnold smiled at her, "Wow, you _really_ need to come to the Boarding House and analyse Oskar for me." he suggested playfully, laughter in his voice.

Very maturely, in her expert opinion, Helga resisted the urge to squeak like a frightened mouse at the subject of her visiting the Boarding House, and visiting the Boarding House as an _invited _guest no less, for the second time in just under two weeks. As though it were a defence mechanism literally built into her at this point, which it possibly was, Helga rolled her eyes and laid the sarcasm on thickly, "Oh please, I'm not wasting years of training on that man!"

And, to her surprise, the comment made him _smile_, or rather grin at her, "Fair enough." he conceded happily, "_But_ you did promise to come by for dinner sometime."

Helga _knew _she was looking at him like an idiot at that point, like an absolute moron probably, but she couldn't help but be baffled by how incredibly serious he had sounded. "Dinner?" she asked dumbly, her fingernails clawing at her forearm, which didn't matter a whole lot because it felt numb right now, "I mean, I know you said I should stop by, but I thought I'd just, you know, stop by for a bit to say hello." and, with much difficulty, she managed to cut herself off there before she continued rambling and stumbling over her words and _sounding_ like the nervous wreck she certainly, and undeniably, was.

Arnold shrugged his broad, and had she mentioned _beautiful_, shoulders at this, "Well, if you're stopping by you may as well stay for dinner, right?" he asked, and maybe it was her overactive imagination, but he sounded a little hopeful, like maybe he _truly_ wanted her to eat dinner with his zany, yet loveable, little family. Until, he continued to speak, "Grandma would insist, anyway." and Helga sadly realised it _had_ been her overactive imagination, but it was nice to be _wanted_ nonetheless, even if it was just by his grandparents.

"I guess you're right." Helga agreed, not willing to disappoint Arnold's fantastic grandparents even in the slightest, "How about Friday?"

Arnold's eyes lit up a little, "Great, that will be perfect. They're going to be excited when I tell them, and-"

Unfortunately, whatever Arnold was about to say, was cut off by the loud ringing sound of the school bell and Helga could hear the hoards of small children groaning a little out in the hallways, and preparing for the journey into their classrooms.

"Well, I should get going." Helga announced, standing and packing her things into her briefcase with haste, and for very good reasons. One being that she desperately, and pathetically, needed to go sigh longingly in a corner about being invited to the Boarding House for dinner and the other being that seeing her in the classroom this morning would probably make Angela a little nervous, and she wanted to avoid that.

"Yeah." Arnold agreed after a fairly extended pause, in which he had been watching Helga cram her papers back into their place, and strangely hadn't offered to help like he usually would, "I guess so."

Helga stilled in her movements for a moment, and took the time to peer back up at the tall football-headed man, since his voice had seemed a little... _off_ during his previous sentence. Yet, immediately she wished she hadn't because their eyes met awkwardly, and he seemed incredibly uncomfortable, and her fight of flight reflex immediately suggested she get _out_ of there. And so, with all the grace and finesse of a wild elephant, Helga fled from the classroom like she had just committed a crime, and spent the entire drive back to her office wondering if she possibly could have done _anything_ more embarrassing.

* * *

_p.s. _some people have mentioned Angela or Dean being children of one of the old PS118 people, _but_, I just wanna remind you that the 'gang' are twenty four years old, and Angela, Dean & co. are ten years old... sooo... they would've had to have the child at fourteen... and sorry to disappoint but, no, that's not the case (also Angela has three older brothers... so in _that _case they would've had to start popping out kids at, like, three... and that's just... you know...)


	8. Pastrami On Rye

Helga took another bite of her delicious pastrami sandwich and looked over Angela's file, or rather the mess of scribbled notes that was _supposed_ to resemble an organised file, and once again found herself literally glaring at it. More specifically, glaring at the sole word that was written beside today's agenda, that being _Dean_. Honestly, she had been spending the better part of her lunch break trying to figure out _why_ she was glaring at the word.

Firstly she had assumed it was because it was the _only_ thing on the page, and that maybe she expected to have more things to write. But, really, he alone was enough to fill up _weeks_ of session agendas, so it couldn't have been that. Secondly, she wondered whether it was because she honestly didn't want to initiate the subject, nor endure the horrible nostalgic sensation as Angela Sanderson burst into a dramatic tale of her burning love and endless adoration for the boy. Or, maybe, it was because at the current moment she almost felt angry with Dean, just like she had always almost felt angry at Arnold, for just simply not _realising_.

However, before she could ponder her frustration any further, her desk phone began to buzz in its horribly annoying, and entirely cliché, little way and Tina, Helga and Dr Bliss' secretary, began to speak.

"Phoebe called for you." Tina said pleasantly, which was nothing out of the ordinary considering she was the loveliest, bubbliest, most excitable thing on this side of the hemisphere, "She's on line one."

Despite sounding like the type of person who might irritate Helga to the point of madness, Tina was actually somebody Helga thoroughly liked, and surprisingly she didn't even mind her sing-song tone. Possibly that was because Tina was not only happy on the outside, but also on the _inside_, meaning she was actually mentally sound and her happiness was not a thinly veiled front for a basket of overwhelmingly depressing personal issues. And _that_ kind of happiness, the basket-case, personal issues kind, was something Helga had experienced far too much of in her life. It was nice to have somebody around who actually had their shit together.

"Thanks Tina." she hummed appreciatively down the phone, with a slight mumble considering that she had just previously taken a large bite of her sandwich, and when she heard the receiver click, and was certain Tina was no longer there, Helga pressed the small green 'line one' button.

"Good morning, Phoebe." Helga said cheerfully, as it had been weeks since she had spoken to her best friend, due to their conflicting work schedules. It certainly was not out of the ordinary that the two friends go for weeks at a time without contact, considering that they were both so busy in their respective careers, but that certainly didn't mean either of them _liked _it.

"Hello Helga." Phoebe said back with just as much enthusiasm, "But, it _is_ past noon now in Hillwood."

Helga laughed at her friends inescapable accuracy, "Yes Pheebs, but it's morning where _you_ are." she said proudly, glancing down again at the handy little clock gadget she had installed on her laptop, and set to San Diego time.

"Actually, Helga, I've been called into our Hillwood facility for the next few weeks." Phoebe began to explain, as the phone crackled a little, "I landed this morning."

Helga, who was a little stunned by the sudden news, but mainly excited at the possibility of Phoebe being so close, close enough to _see _in person, had promptly dropped the pen she had been holding onto her desk. However, realising that a shocked, gaping expression did nothing to help a phone call, which was particularly reliant on _voice_ communication, she snapped from her little trance and began to respond, "An impromptu visit, hey?" she asked, "Must be important."

Of course, Helga was _stating_ that it must be important, and certainly not asking _if_ it was, because it was already rather obvious that something out of the ordinary had to have happened. Phoebe's line of research was firmly based at the San Diego facility, and had been for the past two years, so a sudden cross-country flight certainly indicated that some sort of pressing situation, or medical emergency, had arisen.

"Certainly, Helga." Phoebe's, very quiet and patient, voice confirmed, "We have stumbled upon a breakthrough that may finally lead us toward a possible treatment for lung cancer."

Hardly _needing_ another excuse to be super impressed, and infinitely proud, of her best friend and all her achievements, Helga received one anyway and this time, she even let out a little girly gasp, simply because this was particularly amazing news. "Phoebe, that's amazing!" she almost squealed, in her most excited 'my-best-friend-is-part-of-a-leading-cancer-research-team' voice. And, yes, she _did _have a specific tone of voice for that, because, well, it was very important.

"I must concur." Phoebe responded levelly to Helga's excitement, although, her best friend was all too aware that if she did not have a professional image, and serious mind-frame, to preserve that Phoebe Heyerdahl would currently be doing backflips in excitement, "I am most excited about the prospects."

Unsure of how long Phoebe had spare to chat with her this afternoon, Helga's eyes quickly fell onto her weekly planner, now open on her desk, and she set her mind to the very important task of organising a time to see her dearly missed best friend. "So, you'll be here for a few weeks, right?" she quickly confirmed, taking note of various days with availability over lunchtime.

"Yes." Phoebe said contemplatively, "The timeframe is uncertain at this particular point in time, but, I think we should allocate time to meet with each other, as soon as possible." she finished, practically reading Helga's mind, as per usual.

Helga grinned a little, "I'm with you on that, Pheebs." she quipped back, settling her eyes on the very first availability she could locate in her planner, "I can do tomorrow, actually, how does that sound to you?"

"Tomorrow suits me perfectly, Helga." Phoebe said happily, before a little pause, and slight hesitation prior to uttering her next thought, which even came out sounding a little unsure, "I'd love to dine at Chez Paris, if that would be acceptable?"

Phoebe had _always_ remained cautious in regards to the subject of _ice-cream_ and anything which was even slightly related to him. Whilst Helga was unsure to this day how their silent, yet mutual, agreement had initiated, Phoebe had never once over the years asked questions and, in return, Helga had kept the issue largely to herself, bar crisis situations. In fact, their agreed silence in regards to the topic was the _reason_ Helga had known nothing about Arnold's life over the past decade when she had arrived back in Hillwood.

However, despite the limited, and coded, information that was shared between the two of them, Phoebe's _level_ of knowledge on the subject was extensive, and actually in all honesty, borderline scary. Chez Paris served as a poignant example of that, because, Helga had never once mentioned her initial plan to her best friend, nor had she _ever _spoken about the events at any point in time afterward. And yet, Phoebe had just simply always known.

Helga, who was truly coming to realise how many of her _own_ unhealthy behavioural habits had not been solved over the years, confidently assured her slightly nervous friend that, "Yes, Chez Paris is fine."

A small, subtle, breath of relief could be heard through the phone receiver as the news that she had not scared nor offended her best friend, reached Phoebe's ears and Helga knew Phoebe must have been curious as to _why_ the subject of Chez Paris went down so casually, when she timidly asked, "Have you been to many of the old places since you move back?"

Deciding that, in the efforts of moving on from her childhood, she would need to finally have an open, and _name inclusive_, conversation with her long-time best friend, Helga thought back honestly over her activities from the past two weeks. "Not really." she had to admit, although she could safely and _thankfully_ say that hadn't been because she was avoiding doing so, but purely because she had been far too busy, "It wouldn't be the same without you anyway, Pheebs. Of course, I've been to Green Meats a few times, and I _did _walk to the pier on the weekend, but, that's about all."

Phoebe must have been thinking much along the same lines as Helga, in regards to seeing through a truthful and inclusive discussion, because she quickly reminded her, "_And_ PS118, of course, Helga." and after a brief pause, possibly just in case Helga started grumbling unpleasant words into the phone, she asked, "How _was_ your first week there?"

Helga took a deep breath, and almost forgot to release it once more, before attempting to speak and with a pointless shake of the head, that Phoebe couldn't even _see_, and a stupid sigh for dramatic effect, she said very steadily, "Phoebe, you will not _believe_ what the world has thrown at me this time."

"Oh dear, Helga." was Phoebe's immediate, and sightly predictable yet comforting, response, "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, Phoebe." she was quick to assure her best friend, and was even a little surprised that it wasn't actually much of a lie at all, "I'm a grown woman, I can handle it." and, despite things like her trembling hands when he smiled and her rapid heartbeat when he joked with her, she felt overall _slightly_ more confident that it was true.

However, her over-confident assurances did not seem to quell Phoebe's concern, and seconds later the small and worried voice of her best friend asked, "Oh Helga, what has happened?"

"I saw her the moment I walked in, Pheebs..." Helga began, with a far off reminiscent tone that almost reminded her of something you'd hear in a movie, "Yelling, pushing kids in the hallway, throwing eraser cuttings at a certain boy in the second row..." and at that she trailed off slightly, somewhat lost in memories, and also knowing that she had provided enough information to warrant a response from Phoebe.

Her best friend giggled a little, making a crackling sound through Helga's phone speaker a little, and after taking her moment to enjoy the irony of the tale, Phoebe said, "Oh my Helga, sounds like you've located yourself a mini-me!"

"Yeah." Helga laughed along with her, twirling her purple pen around in her fingers, "Her name is Angela, we had our first session last Wednesday, it's like... looking into a strange mirror."

Phoebe hummed a little on the other end of the line, before stating with a little bemusement, "Well, Helga, that doesn't sound so bad at all." and after not receiving an immediate response, she added, "I'm not entirely sure I understand what the problem could be, is she causing you trouble?"

Chuckling at that, Helga drew a little smiley face next to the words, _Chez Paris w/ Phoebe_, in her planner, "Surprisingly not." she informed Phoebe happily, "She actually seems to trust me. The _problem_ is her teacher."

"Okay Helga." Phoebe responded thoughtfully, obviously now settling herself into her hotel room, as Helga could hear the clicks of doors and the polite voice of the room attendant dropping off her bags, "I believe I will require you to elaborate before I can come to a full understanding of the issue at hand."

Helga tapped her fingers against the plastic casing of her favourite pen, "Let's just say..." she began carefully ,"that Angela's teacher is the boy from the second row _I _used to throw things at."

Finally having revealed this, albeit without actually _saying_ his name yet, which was honestly a hard habit to break if she was being honest; Helga was now waiting patiently for Phoebe's reply. However, it didn't appear to be coming, instead all she could hear in response was a slight static on the line, and otherwise, complete silence. Helga actually began to wonder if her friend had been disconnected, that maybe her line had cut out, and so after a few extra seconds of silence, she tentatively asked, "Phoebe, are you still there?"

Phoebe whispered, very quietly, so quietly that Helga almost didn't _hear _it, "He's going to figure it out." and Helga noted that her poor best friend sounded, well, _absolutely terrified_.

Unable to help herself, Helga actually had to bite her lip to stop from little tears escaping at just how much Phoebe clearly _cared_ about this. Knowing that her best friend took her problems, her secrets, so seriously that she was practically having a heart attack on her _behalf_ was, well, absolutely heart-warming.

"No doubt about it, Grubworm." Helga responded, trying to add a little confidence and assurance to the situation, so that Phoebe would cease being so incredibly worried. Once again, Phoebe was silent on the other end of the line, so Helga decided to continue on, "I almost backed out of the case for that very reason, but, I talked to Bliss about it and she reminded me that this is for _Angela_ and it's important... and she's right."

Phoebe, after clearly making a special effort to calm down, now let out a squeaky mumble, about something Helga couldn't quite decipher, and then fell a silent again.

Helga sighed, knowing that Phoebe knew, that Helga knew, that the final point of discussion had not yet been addressed, "_But..._" she continued, with an involuntary grimace on her face, "the very moment Angela confesses to me, marks the moment I need to come to terms with unveiling twenty years of secrecy."

"Do you think you can do it?" Phoebe's voice echoed through the receiver, asking the one question that simply begged to _be_ asked, yet the one that Helga had repetitively asked _herself_ over the past week and a half, and had only recently come to a conclusion about.

"You know what Phoebe, I think I can." Helga proudly stated, and although she didn't _want_ to do it, nor would she be able to function properly while she did, she knew that she _could_ and she _would_ when the time came, "I mean, it was a long time ago."

Phoebe didn't respond immediately, and Helga knew that her friend was still worried, and clearly, as a Scientist does, was pondering the possible outcomes of such an 'experiment', "But, what if he asks more questions?" she wondered out loud.

Helga frowned, not entirely certain where this might lead, "Aside from, '_were you in love with me when we were in elementary school',_ what other questions could he possibly want to ask?" and she was legitimately curious, now maybe even a little nervous, what the answer to that may be, because questions beyond _that_ had not ever entered her mind as a possibility.

"Well, certainly things like for how _long_ you were in love with him, or even more concerningly, if you still are..." Phoebe said softly, almost whispering the last few words.

And, Helga's stomach did an uncomfortable little flip flop at that, because she now realised that Arnold _may _want to ask further questions, questions like those, but... "Surely he wouldn't assume I'm still crazy about him!" she protested, "Honestly, I've been gone for _twelve years_."

Phoebe hummed into the phone, and Helga could tell that she would currently be nodding slightly, and frowning a little whilst deep in thought. "Well, Helga..." she said firmly, indicating the next question was going to be a very significant one, "_do_ you still love him?"

Despite the fact that never before had they delved so deep, or so explicitly, into the subject of Arnold, nor Helga's feelings for him, she felt it was incredibly important that she was entirely honest with her best friend right now. "Phoebe..." she began, letting out a long and wistful breath of air, "I think you know as well as I do, that something like that doesn't just go away."

"You do have a very relevant point there, Helga..." Phoebe softly conceded.

Helga immediately identified her chance, the opportunity to finally right one of the most horribly unnatural wrongs she had ever known throughout her life, "_Speaking_ of which, Phoebe." she began slyly, referring to Phoebe's prior indirect confession, "I am _begging _you, while you're in Hillwood – call Tall Hair Boy!"

"Helga..." Phoebe began to protest, in the all-too-familiar warning, but uncertain, tone she always used when it came to matters regarding Gerald Johanssen, "I really don't think bothering Gerald would be-"

But, Helga didn't even let her finish, for she was a woman on a mission. "Phoebe, you know what Arnold told me the other day?" she said, very authoritively, no longer willing to sit back and watch her best friend and the boy with the gravity defying hair fight fate, "That Geraldo has been nuts about you since pre-school, so, get off the phone to me, and _call_ him!"

"You know what, Helga." Phoebe started, with a tone of pure determination that Helga had honestly not been prepared for, but certainly liked the sound of, "If you're about to indirectly confess to Arnold, then the _least_ I could do is have dinner with Gerald."

Helga, who was now gripping her desk so tightly in happiness and relief, she was amazed she hadn't broken the entire thing, let out a delighted cheer, "That's the spirit!" she encouraged, "Call him _right_ now, before you chicken out, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." Phoebe responded diligently, before tacking on a polite, "See you tomorrow." and then hanging up the phone.

Helga smiled at her receiver for a good few moments and then uttered a joyous "Go get 'em, Pheebs", before realising that what she was doing looked, well, crazy... and she was supposed to be a mentally sound individual capable of counselling young children, or, at least she was supposed to _look_ like one.


	9. Angela Loves Dean

_BANG._

Doctor Helga Pataki's office door flew open, and then immediately closed again with great force, at precisely three thirty on Wednesday afternoon. Helga, who had previously been shuffling through a tedious pile of old filing that was well overdue finding an ordered place in a filing cabinet, jumped a little in her seat and lifted her eyes to the sight of Angela Sanderson stomping angrily into the room. With a look of great displeasure on her face, and a very dramatic huff of air, the young dark-haired girl threw herself onto the long black couch in the centre of the room, and looked over at the older blonde woman expectantly.

Slowly leaving her own chair behind the sturdy wooden desk, and moving herself to closer range in the armchair by the couch, Helga took her place silently by Angela, and looked her over quizzically for a moment.

Angela, who was clearly in no mood for staring contests, immediately frowned at this silent and inquisitive response from her therapist and quickly snapped out a bratty, "What do _you_ want?"

"Nothing much." Helga replied calmly, shrugging her shoulders a little and relaxing back into the chair like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, "... Just to talk."

The younger girl screwed up her face immediately, "Yeah, well I don't want to talk to you... now or ever." she quickly informed her, now crossing her arms and averting her gaze to the opposite side of the room.

Simply raising an eyebrow in amusement, much to the distaste of the angry girl who was watching out the corner of her eye, Helga reached backward to her desk and pulled her notebook and pen onto her lap, "You're being particularly defensive today." she noted nonchalantly.

"And _you,_" Angela sneered, "are being particularly nosey."

Helga waited for a moment, just in case she changed her mind, but when Angela's arms remained firmly crossed and her attention firmly focussed out of the large window, she decided to turn the tables a little. "Okay, how about I stop asking the questions?" Helga suggested, knowing that this particular method had worked incredibly well on _her_ during her first few sessions with Dr Bliss all those years ago, "Why don't you ask _me_ some questions?"

Apparently, it hadn't failed to capture _this_ grumpy young girls attention either, because Angela's head whipped back toward Helga quickly and she asked, very carefully, "You mean, like, I get to be _your_ shrink?"

"Exactly." Helga confirmed with a pleasant smile, "How does that sound?"

Smirking as though she had done something devilish, her deep brown eyes lit up and she conceded that... "That sounds good." and without a moments more hesitation, Angela reached forward and grasped the blank notepaper and purple pen, taking them into her own possession for the time being.

Helga watched on with interest as Angela leant back into the lounge comfortably, twirled the purple pen in her fingers and tapped it against the blank sheets of paper periodically, her mouth twitching upward every now and again as she thought deeply about where to start her line of inquiry. "What happened to your perfect older sister?" she eventually asked, and then readied the pen on the very top line of the paper, preparing to note whatever response she was given.

"Olga?" Helga mused, and it was odd for her to even _say_ that name these days, because she hadn't used her sisters name in conversation in years, in fact she hardly even _thought_ about Olga anymore, "Well, she dropped out of college when I was in the seventh grade and tried to make it big in Hollywood."

Angela scrawled '_Hollywood_' onto the page and nodded her head in understanding, "Did she do anything good?"

Helga shrugged her shoulders a little, and considered the context of the word '_good'_ a little before responding, "Nothing huge." and then proceeded to roll her eyes in regards to her next sentence, "_But_ after she appeared as an extra on Days of Our Lives my parents 'couldn't have been prouder'."

Chocolatey brown eyes watched her carefully, "So... what happened after that?" the young girl promoted, the notebook now lowered a little in her hands, and her head tilted to the side a little in anticipation at hearing more about her psychologists life.

"After that, well, they decided to move us all to California." Helga said, a little frown coming to her face at the memories of being uprooted from her childhood home so _quickly_ and irrationally by her careless parents, who gave her less than two days to say goodbye, "So, then Olga lived in an apartment, following her dreams and my parents and I lived in a house down the road."

Looking incredibly unimpressed, Angela scribbled _'apartment' _onto the paper, one line below the word _'Hollywood' _and asked, "Did you hate it?"

Helga shook her head, and Angela almost seemed surprised, "No, I didn't hate it." she said truthfully, "I did at first, but moving away from Hillwood gave me a good chance to... start over." and despite the fact that leaving Hillwood was hard, and that California was sometimes a nightmare, she had always honestly been glad for the fresh start.

"Did you change a lot?" came the next enquiry, from Angela who had now become distracted from writing down key words from the conversation and instead was drawing the beginnings of what looked to be a picture of a Californian beach.

"I was certainly nicer." Helga responded immediately, "I tried harder in school and my new friends gave me a pretty dramatic makeover." and she had to give a little chuckle at that, because despite all the snarky comments and vows to 'never keep the new look', that makeover had really stuck with her. Maybe it was conceited, and rather '_Rhonda Wellington Lloyd'_ of her to say so, but it had really changed her life, or at least made her far more comfortable with being a girl, no a _woman_, and embracing her natural beauty.

Clearly unimpressed with her little beachscape, because she had now drawn two big lines through it and settled on starting a new scribble instead, Angela asked casually, "Well, when _did_ you come back to Hillwood?"

"Not long after I graduated college." she smiled, casting a glance over at the certificates adorning the walls, "I've been back for about a month now."

Angela now looked a little speculative, "But, why get a job in Hillwood?" she wondered aloud, her little sketch now becoming more and more... Dean-shaped.

Letting out a little sigh, and leaning backward to relax into her armchair, Helga began to explain the one and only reason she agreed to return to her hometown after receiving her qualifications, "When I was your age, my psychologists name was Dr Bliss." she began, and Angela lifted her head from the note paper and her very important drawing, to focus on her again, "I visited her every Tuesday and Thursday until the moment I left town, and even then, I would call her from California sometimes. She was who inspired me to become a child psychologist in the first place and, when I graduated, she told me she wanted to retire and that she wanted _me_ to take over her practice _and_ her job at PS118." Now looking out over the tall buildings and busy streets of the place she always called home, she concluded by stating, "So, I came back."

Now lowering the notepad completely, and setting it to the side with the pen placed carefully on top, Angela continued to watch the blonde woman intently, and carefully but clearly she asked, "Who was your umbrella?"

Helga blinked a little at this, before she could smile slightly and begin to respond, and that was simply because despite very much expecting it, she was slightly taken aback by the gentle way Angela had approached, and asked the question. "Ah, I was waiting for you to ask that." she said softly back, now waiting to observe how the young girl chose to continue.

"Was it a boy?" she pushed, narrowing her eyes a little, but her overall demeanour remaining careful and composed.

"Very good." Helga nodded, even though she had fully expected Angela to know that, "He was a boy, a sweet and adorable one."

Angela now shifted forward on the couch, the paper and pen entirely forgotten beside her, her eyes uncertain and her expression a little bashful, "Did you love him?"

Pursing her lips together, and watching her own childhood emotions play out on the face of the young girl before her, Helga managed a weak smile, "Yes, completely." she admitted, and that made her feel a little tingly inside, because she didn't, and never had, confessed it out loud very often at all.

The poor, now possibly a little apprehensive, ten-year-old girl on the black leather couch bit her lip for a few moments, before making a point to drag her eyes back to Helga's to ask, "Were you really mean to him?"

Helga almost felt guilty as she nodded, "I figured nobody would find out that way." she explained, but in the light of day, and with the passing of time, it didn't really seem to justify anything anymore, "But, you know what? Sometimes he _was_ just so perfect that it really did make me mad..." and, at least, that was truly no lie, he had frustrated her no end for those nine long years in Hillwood.

"Boys are stupid." Angela retorted, nodding at Helga's last observation, "I get mad at them too."

Determined that Angela not look back on her life at twenty four and feel guilty and unjustified, Helga made the immediate decision to dive directly into the subject of Dean at this precise, and very promising, moment. "Dean seems to anger you in particular." Helga noted swiftly, leaning forward to retrieve her notebook and pen, with the added beach and Dean drawing compliments of her young protégé, from the couch.

Angela, paying no mind to the fact that Helga now held in her hand a very detailed pen-sketched portrait of the boy in question, frowned unappreciatively at the observation and retorted, "Dean _does_ anger me." and, for emphasis, she crossed her arms again and let out a huff very similar to the one she did upon entering the room earlier in the afternoon, "He's so stupidly nice all the freakin' time, it's just _annoying_."

"Okay, so he angers you..." Helga said thoughtfully, tracing the pen over the sketch on the paper in her hands, "Do you... _dislike_ him?" she baited her.

Oblivious to the ploy, thankfully, Angela glared quite mercilessly at _that_ suggestion and promptly turned away from Helga again, this time flipping her entire body to face out the window. "No." she said icily, after a very long pause and a whole lot of uncomfortably shifting on the couch, "I do not dislike him."

Nonchalantly Helga waved her hand, although she knew Angela wasn't facing her directly but assuming that she was probably carefully watching her reflection in the panes of window glass, "Alright, how _would_ you describe the way you feel about him?" she mused, as though she were simply wondering out loud.

"I don't _know_." snapped the high pitched, and very agitated, voice of Angela Sanderson from her avoidant position on the couch.

Helga tossed the notebook onto the table, leaving the detailed sketch of Dean out on display and just in the perfect spot to be visible out the corner of Angela's eye, "It might make you feel better if you just say it." she suggested coolly as the notebook landed on the glass-topped table between the armchair and the couch.

"Say _what?_" Angela spat back, now curling up into a small ball and hiding her face and eyes from the view of the notebook, and Helga... and the window, "I have nothing to say."

Helga grimaced, and tried to mentally justify what she was about to do, because it _would_ probably get her a confession, but, it would also be a little cowardly on her behalf and ultimately, if she thought it through there was probably another, albeit more drawn out, way to have Angela confess. However, the scared little girl within Helga won out eventually, and despite knowing it was not the _right_ thing to do, she suggested it anyway... "Angela, I do have to report back to your teacher, but, if you'd like..." she began, and she closed her eyes as she finished, just to feel less responsible for the words that came out, "I'll keep _this _part between us..."

As expected, the girl with the long black ponytail shifted in her seat slightly, and hesitantly turned to face Helga, "Really?" she asked sceptically, "If, _hypothetically_, I was to tell you something important about Dean... you wouldn't tell my teacher?"

"I won't say a word." Helga promised, and she was unable to deny the little burst of elated relief that pumped through her veins at the possibility of not having to pass this information to Arnold and thus protecting her _own_ little secret. And, in her defense, it did seem that this was the way _Angela_ wanted it to be also, and all other consequences aside, Helga was simply doing what was best for her patient.

Helga was drawn from her inner debate by a passing flash of green, which was caused by Angela now standing in front of her, pacing backward and forward repetitively and looking somewhat like she was preparing for battle.

"Okay." Angela spoke eventually, pausing for a moment to look _very_ bashfully at Helga, "Um... I..." and then she could no longer muster eye contact, nor remain stationary, and paced back and forth a little more, "I-I... love..." came next and it was followed by two _incredibly_ deep breaths, that briefly made Helga wonder just how much room could possibly be in the young girls lungs, and with wide eyes, "I love Dean." was whispered from her lips.

"Continue." Helga promoted calmly, nodding in understanding at the young girl, who was now at least able to blink once or twice and start to take control of her breathing again.

Angela, who actually let of a little gagging sound from the over-influx of oxygen from before, now flopped down on the couch looking a little defeated, but also largely relieved. "I've loved him since pre-school, is that weird?" she asked with a pitiful tone, casting a fleeting glace up toward Helga, but continuing on anyway, "I hope not, because I have and I've _tried_ to stop, I really have but I can't." and now she stood up and motioned to a specific enclave of the neighbourhood from out of the large window, "I follow the boy everywhere, you know, I can tell you anything you need to know... right down to where to find the cookies in his kitchen. I think even Johnny knows, he saw Dean's picture in my locker one day." with this she turned once more to face Helga, a disgruntled look on her face, "I guess that's why I got so harsh on him and his stupid big nose in the _first_ place... I'm weird, right?"

One final huff of breath, and a few more moments of that irritable frown remaining on her face, and Angela finally shook her head a little and looked hopefully back at Helga, waiting for the answer to her question.

"No Angela, you're not weird." the faintly smiling blonde assured her, carefully taking a seat beside the, probably exhausted, young girl, "You're just passionate." and if anybody understood the difference between being weird and being passionate, or just what kind of things being 'passionate' made you do, it was Helga G. Pataki.

"Yeah." Angela grumbled, "Passionately insane." and Helga had to chuckle at that one, because deep down, maybe they both _were_ insane, but that was what made them strong and unique.

"Angela, it's okay to love him and it's okay to be curious about him." she advised her knowingly, before frowning a little and, in the girls best interests, calmly suggesting, "But, maybe stop the trespassing, it _is_ illegal."

Angela simply sighed and looked up toward the ceiling with a wistful expression, "Will he ever love me?" she asked quietly.

Helga let her chin rest against the palms of her hands, and peered over at the girl now tracing the lines of the office roof with her deep dark eyes, "There's always a possibility that he doesn't love you, and that maybe he never will." and then she paused, and without consciously realising it, turned her head up to watch the ceiling too, "But you can't let him be the thing that makes or breaks you... that _is_ what The Umbrella Project is all about."

Nodding slowly, and eyeing her psychologist warily, Angela asked softly, probably knowing the answer already, "So, I guess things never worked out for you?"

"No." Helga confirmed, shifting her focus back to her patient once more, "But I'm doing just fine, and you will too."

"Do you think I should tell him?" was the next question, and Helga was surprised at how deeply Angela clearly trusted her, maybe purely because they shared a connection very few people could truly understand.

"Yes, I think you should." Helga nodded, and despite knowing that was rather hypocritical of her to say at the current time, in her defence she _had_ tried numerous times back in her childhood, the very worst of those being just hours before she left for California, to tell Arnold how she felt. Casting her memory back to her sessions in this building as a sarcastic and defensive pre-teen, she remembered Dr Bliss' _constant_ reminder, "You'll never know how _he_ feels, until you do."

Angela offered no verbal response, and not a shake nor nod of the head, but Helga understood from the way her eyes focussed intently on the sketch sitting on the table in front of them, that she had heard and understood the message Helga was trying to convey. It was up to the ten-year-old herself now to decide her future, whether to break the silence and unearth her vulnerability, or remain quiet and appear strong and disagreeable.

Moments passed by as Angela stared at the sketch, then back to her own hands, and then every so often over at Helga. Whilst Helga had remained studying the movements of the thin little girl, and watching the minutes tick by on the clock.

"Oh, looks like our time is up." Angela confidently noted, as her eyes flicked past the clock on their way up from staring down her rather impressive notebook sketch, and her comment made Helga blink and focus her own blue eyes onto the modern wall clock, which now indicated they had gone ten minutes past their allotted appointment time.

Helga straightened up her skirt and stood, offering her hand out to Angela who took it readily and hopped up off the couch, "Seems that way..." she said smartly, and before she could continue any further the small black-haired girl had wrapped her arms tightly around her in a hug.

"See you next week." the young girl promised blissfully as she unwrapped herself from the embrace and headed for the door, looking a little like the weight of the world had been removed from her shoulders, but before she left entirely, she turned back to face Helga with a very thoughtful and serious expression, "Oh and, you know, it's okay if you tell Mr Shortman that I love Dean... I trust him..." she offered kindly, and with that the office door was closed and Angela Sanderson had left for the day.

Had Angela waited a moment longer, she probably would have noticed the colour draining from her therapists face, or the wide-eyed panic flashing through the brilliant blue, and maybe even the little shake of her hands or the sudden gasp after she realised she had temporarily forgotten to keep breathing. But, she didn't, and instead the award-winning author and qualified child psychiatrist was left to process this news on her own.

Angela loved Dean, and soon, Arnold Shortman would know that. And in turn, he would possibly, probably, more-than-likely, realise that Helga Geraldine Pataki loved _him_.


	10. Preparing For Revelation

**A Little Story: **OK so... I was driving to Uni the other day and this cafe has an advertisement banner out the front of their store saying... "Ice Cream, made for obsession..." and a picture of their ice cream sundae or whatever... and I LOST IT... I was so excited to tell you. So according to this restaurant, _Ice Cream_ is simply _made_ for obsession! See, Helga, it's all good! HAHA oh my gosh. Just wanted to share that. Thank you. Now to the actual story...

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Early Thursday morning, the very same Thursday that occurred directly after Angela's confession on Wednesday and the very same Thursday that Helga had a scheduled meeting with Arnold to _discuss _Angela's Wednesday session, and Doctor Helga Pataki stood outside the office door engraved with the words_ 'Dr Jennifer Bliss'. _Even earlier that morning, somewhere around two o'clock, she had begrudgingly admitted to herself that she needed to discuss the impending situation with somebody, and not somebody like Phoebe who would simply go along with her avoidance strategies, but somebody who would be prepared to give her a verbal slap in the face for being childish. Somebody like her mentor, long time friend, co-worker and childhood therapist, Dr Bliss.

And so, having successfully put off discussing things with the older woman for most of the day so far, and with time quickly running out, Helga was now tapping away gently at the door of her office.

"Helga..." Bliss greeted her, a little suspiciously, as Helga entered the room and flopped herself wordlessly into the seat opposite the large grey desk in the room, "Good afternoon."

Helga screwed up her face a little, and eyed her colleague warily, now very seriously re-thinking her decision to talk about the issue, but when Bliss raised a silently demanding eyebrow at her, Helga knew she had to speak. "She told me." the tall blonde groaned, flicking invisible specks of dirt off her fitted pink skirt in frustration.

Bliss smiled softly, but knowingly, probably because she'd known the reason for Helga's visit the very moment she had entered the room, the woman could not easily be lead astray that was for certain. "I see..." she began slowly, dropping the paperwork she had previously held in her hands, and focussing her full attention on the frowning blonde girl now inhabiting her office, "So, now you must tell Arnold."

"I have a meeting with him this afternoon." Helga continued sourly, as she tried to keep the nightmare scenarios that had played out in her mind over the past twelve hours from re-entering her current thoughts.

Summarizing her assumptions on the current matter, Bliss said casually, "I gather you have come for a pep talk?"

"Yes." Helga winced, hardly liking the way this all sounded when it was verbalized, "And it better be a good one, I'm feeling queasy already."

Bliss visibly did her best to fend off a chuckle at Helga's tendency for dramatics, and instead shrugged her shoulders casually in an attempt to soothe the younger woman, "Helga, you have nothing to worry about, you're both adults now." she reminded her, "I'm sure you can work things out in a mature manner."

"That was never the problem." Helga scoffed, rolling her eyes a little and focusing her attention back on the hem of hem of her skirt, which she had now managed to find a loose thread on, "He would have been mature about it back when we were _nine_."

"I completely agree, Helga, which is why I was always uncertain as to why you were so adamant not to tell him, even back then." Bliss responded with a small frown, in reference to Helga's undeniably possessive nature regarding her secret.

Helga sighed, ultimately it _did _frustrate her because she knew she should, and could, be stronger than to hide behind secrecy for decades, "I guess it's the rejection." she admitted sadly, "Even worse that I _know_ it will be nice rejection, and that means I won't be able to get angry about it."

"Why would you want to be angry?" was the immediate response from the woman across the desk, who was now jotting things down onto a piece of notepaper, Helga _had_ always been her favourite case study after all.

"_Because_," Helga began as though it made perfect sense, or that it were plainly obvious as to why that would be the case, "If he was horrible about it, and cut my heart into tiny little pieces, then maybe I'd be angry enough not to love him anymore."

Bliss frowned, "And if he were to do it nicely?"

"It'll just remind me why I love him in the first place." Helga sighed, now slumping her posture entirely and letting her head rest heavily in the palms of her hands, it was only half-way through this monumental day and she already felt like she needed a rest.

It was then that Helga realized Bliss had paused for an uncharacteristically long period of time, and when Helga cast her eyes back toward the older woman, she also found her to be looking at her rather quizzically, with one eyebrow quirked in interest.

"Helga, are you telling me you're still in love with Arnold?" she asked softly, and Helga _recognized_ that specific tone of voice from her childhood sessions, that gentle and cautious voice that Bliss always used during discussions of particularly sensitive nature. More specifically, _that_ tone was used during discussions that would easily send the younger Helga into an emotional rampage of either passionate confessions or fits of anger.

Crossing her arms very defensively across her chest, a frustrated frown covering her features she retorted rather icily, "Well, I certainly don't ever remember telling you I was _out_ of love with him."

Fully knowing when to concede a point with a riled-up Helga Pataki, Bliss nodded carefully and assured her, "You make a good point."

"No." Helga insisted, still frowning sternly, "I make a terrible, love-stick, mentally ill point."

Bliss relaxed back into her tall leather chair with a sigh, "You're getting dramatic again, Helga." she warned.

"Right." Helga grumbled, letting the frown drop slightly, but keeping her arms firmly crossed, "We're off subject anyway."

"Yes." Bliss agreed, peering down at the short notes she'd scribbled over the past few minutes, and then back to her very upset and stressed looking protégé, "So, you have to face him today and he will probably make an uncomfortable connection... but you're _prepared_ for this Helga, you knew the time would come."

Feeling a little better, but certainly far from entirely convinced, Helga shook her head slightly, "I don't feel prepared." she admitted grimly.

"I think it's long overdue for Arnold to discover the truth." Bliss revealed, "And I believe you're ready."

"Okay, okay." Helga conceded, now verbally rationalizing Bliss' confidence in her, more for her own psyche than in a search for any sort of confirmation on the older woman's behalf, "After six years of psychological studies and an entire book dedicated to being strong and independent, I suppose I _should_ be equipped to deal with this."

Bliss smiled warmly at her, "Exactly, stop worrying so much." she encouraged, now jotting down another notation on her page.

Helga watched her pen mark the paper for a moment, before slumping back into her chair once more and absentmindedly muttering to herself, "Thank god I'm seeing Pheebs today."

Quickly looking up from her page, and pausing in her note taking, Bliss asked, "Phoebe is in town?" with great interest, not only due to the extra support it would provide to Helga, but also because over the years Phoebe had grown to just as much of a daughter figure to Bliss as Helga had.

"She flew in for urgent research at the Hillwood lab." Helga explained, with a nod, to confirm her mentor's question, and then she patiently waited, with a knowing look, for the inevitable follow-up question.

Bliss hummed to herself for a moment, before a slight frown came to her face, "Did you ever get her to address her issues with accepting Gerald's affections?" she mused, now jotting _that_ down onto her notepaper also.

Helga instantly grinned, and as a side thought wondered briefly when Bliss was going to publish this detailed case study she seemed to have been building on not only Helga but Phoebe too over the years, but quickly her thoughts returned to the very satisfying matter at hand. "Not entirely." she said slyly, "But I _did_ convince her to ask him to dinner yesterday."

"How did it go?" Bliss enquired immediately, pen-poised and a suspenseful look expressed on her features.

After a small chuckle at Bliss' eagerness, Helga shrugged her shoulders at the question, "I don't know yet." she smiled, "I guess I'll find out today at lunch."

"Lunch today?" Bliss enquired, raising an eyebrow, and lifting her wrist watch to her eyes, "It's one o'clock now, what time are you meeting her?"

Helga drew her smartphone from her pocket and checked for herself, confirming that the current time of day was just after one in the afternoon, "I'm meeting her at two." she said, "So I should probably get going."

She'd gone no further than half-way to the office door, preparing to return to her office and quickly grab her bags before leaving the building to meet Phoebe, when Bliss called out after her again. Helga slowly turned, with a questioning look, back to face her childhood psychologist.

"You'll do fine today." Bliss assured her kindly, as professionally yet thoughtfully as always and then she added with a smirk, "After all, you're Helga G. Pataki."

Helga grinned back at her, "Thanks, Bliss." and although it had been a long time since the name '_Helga G. Pataki_' was designed to strike fear into the hearts of her peers, and breed a false sense of confidence and authority within herself, it certainly didn't hurt to be reminded of that strong-willed little girl inside of her that had, at least _most of the time_, felt so in charge.


	11. Heyerdahl-Johanssen

Chez Paris looked different, and Helga, despite currently running a little late, was incredibly focussed on figuring out why. The brick was a slightly darker colour, possibly only due to age, and the tacky pink blinds once covering the windows were certainly gone, but there was something else a little odd that she couldn't quite place her finger on. Maybe she didn't want to figure it out, actually, because this small session of 'spot-the-difference' was keeping her mind, and her eyes, off her watch which she had been frantically checking and rechecking as the hours drew closer to _D-Day_. That being the affectionate term she had decided to label her meeting with Arnold this afternoon.

"Excuse me Ma'am?" said a soft voice from in front of her, "Will you be coming inside?"

Helga jumped slightly, and blinked to see a slim brunette waitress looking at her curiously from just inside the doorway of Chez Paris, an order-taking notepad and pen clutched firmly in her left hand.

"Oh, of course..." Helga managed to inform her, now taking a few steps forward and into the restaurant, "I have a table booked for 'Pataki'."

The waitress nodded her head, "Of course ma'am, right this way." she instructed politely, motioning in the direction to the right of them, and then moving toward it, "Your friends have already arrived."

Following closely behind her, Helga raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the waitress' comment, "Friends?" she repeated slowly, "As in... plural?"

"Yes, a couple, your age." she nodded back in Helga's direction, now leading them around a small room divider to the fancier tables of the restaurant.

Just as Helga was about to check if maybe there had been a mix-up, she was met with the sight of her lifelong best friend Phoebe Heyerdahl sitting at the very table the waitress was now motioning toward, and _beside_ Phoebe Heyerdahl, holding her hand tightly, was Gerald Johanssen.

Wordlessly, the tall blonde took her seat opposite the couple, who were now watching her with nervous looks on their faces as she eyed them curiously.

"Could I get you anything to drink?" the waitress' voice cut in before anybody, on their side of the table, had the chance to break the watchful silence that had begun.

Gerald took charge quickly, shooting the waitress his trademark suave smile, "Three Yahoo Soda's." he said confidently, before looking over at Helga and checking, "Right?"

Helga was now officially impressed, either Tall Hair Boy actually _remembered_ her favourite drink, or he'd been worried enough to take pointers from Phoebe earlier on. Nonetheless, it was sweet, and she gladly nodded her head in confirmation of his question.

"No problem." the waitress, who Helga now noticed wore a name badge that read 'Emma', said cheerfully, "I'll have those brought out to you immediately." And with that she was making her way over toward the bar with their order.

"Okay, firstly you both have a lot of explaining to do." Helga began as Emma left their general vicinity, casting an eye between her best friend and the boy with the now not so tall hair, "And secondly, where's the hair gone, Tall Hair Boy?"

Thankfully, Gerald seemed to relax a little at her sarcastic question, and even chuckled, "Well, I must say Pataki, I'm glad you didn't just kill me straight up." he breathed, sounding relieved, "As for the hair, well... things change after twelve years."

"Ain't that the truth." Helga mumbled a little, before looking directly in Phoebe's direction, considering her friend had been rather silent so far during this little reunion, "Now, Phoebe, would you care to explain the situation here?"

Phoebe let out a little giggle, something which made Helga blink a little because Phoebe very rarely giggled, "I hope you don't mind Helga, but Gerald and I had dinner last night and we have... decided to begin making up for lost time immediately." she began to explain, now looking a little bashful, "I thought bringing him to our lunch this afternoon would be a fantastic way to let you know that we're... officially together now."

"About time!" Helga rejoiced a little loudly, briefly capturing some attention from a nearby table, "Oh, Arnold's going to be excited when I tell him." and then realising Gerald may be confused, or get the wrong idea, she turned to him and explained carefully, "Ahh, Arnold and I work together at PS118..."

Gerald chuckled, and nodded his head, as Emma came over and silently placed their drinks down onto the tabletop, handing out menu's to the three friends.

"I know." he said to Helga, before turning his attention to Emma for a moment, "Thank you." he smiled as she finished handing out the menu's and once more headed off toward the bar.

Paying no attention to her menu just yet, Helga frowned, "You know?" she asked, rather surprised.

"Of course I _know_." Gerald shot back, with a small smile, "Arnold called me pretty much the moment you left his classroom the first day."

Shrugging it off nonchalantly, but feeling her heart do a little flutter on the inside, Helga picked up her menu now and pretended to began reading it, "I suppose I _am_ pretty big news." she responded as coolly as possible.

Gerald laughed a little at her comment, now browsing through his menu too, "I could hardly get him to shut up." he noted with a smirk, "He kept saying I wouldn't believe you much you'd changed and I gotta say... he was right."

"Football Head being right... what else is new?" Helga scoffed, giving a playful roll of her eyes, and she noticed a knowing smile on Phoebe's face across the table.

"I see that _some_ things are the same though." Gerald smirked in response, now closing his menu just as quickly as he'd opened it, it seemed he came here often as it was clear it hadn't taken long to make up his mind.

Helga's eyes drifted over to the Ratatouille, and having decided it sounded like a safe option, there would be _no more_ brains and eggs for her, she too placed her menu down. "Yeah, I'm still Helga G. Pataki, bucko." she warned the boy jokingly.

His response, whatever it may have been, was cut off by the re-arrival of a cheerful looking Emma, who had her pen and paper poised at the ready. "Are you ready to order?" she prompted kindly, looking around the table for confirmation.

"Yes, I'll have the Ratatouille." Helga began, watching as Emma nodded and jotted down her order, before casting her eyes over in Phoebe's direction.

Phoebe frowned at her still open menu a little more, before politely saying, "I will have the Pot Au Feu, thank you."

Nodding again, and scribbling quickly down on the page, Emma shifted her gaze to the last person and the closest to her, which was Gerald.

"I'll have the Steak Au Poivre." Gerald ordered, collecting Helga and Phobe's menus from their places, and holding them up toward Emma who took them greatfully and tucked them underneath her arm.

"Merci." the slim brunette smiled, tearing their order slip from her paper and rushing quickly to the kitchen in order to deliver it to the kitchen staff.

"So..." Gerald's deep voice drew Helga's attention back to the table, as he leaned back in his chair, one hand still firmly clasped in Phoebe's, "A psychologist, hey? Who would have thought?"

Helga smiled back at him, or rather more at the clear affection between him and her best friend, "Takes one messed up kid to recognise another, I suppose." she told him nonchalantly, she never did like to discuss why she got into her specific field of work.

Thankfully, he simply nodded understandingly, "Arnold told me about your books, too." he mentioned.

"That kid has a big mouth." she groaned, letting out a pained sigh.

Gerald smirked back at her for a moment, "I picked up a copy of The Umbrella Project yesterday, I'm about two chapters in but... it really is good." he told her sincerely, "And, I will admit in the privacy of this table, that I _had_ already read One First Last Kiss... long before I knew you wrote it. But, never repeat that information to anybody!"

Raising her hands in innocence, Helga laughed a little, "Secret's safe with me, Geraldo." she promised him with an equal level of sincerity.

Suddenly, the two were distracted from their exchange by small giggles escaping Phoebe's lips, the petite young Asian-American girl looking incredibly pleased. "Look at you two getting along." she grinned, "I'm so happy."

Gerald rolled his eyes teasingly, but gave his girlfriends hand an extra squeeze, "Yeah, well, now that _Helga the Horrible_ doesn't seem to harbor great hatred toward me anymore..." he laughed.

"Woah, hold up now Johanssen." Helga interrupted, shaking her head with a smile, "I never _hated_ you."

"Right, just hiding deeper emotional issues?" he teased back, raising an eyebrow at her, to which Helga could only respond with a dumbfounded look as no words were currently making themselves available to her tongue.

In fact, she felt blood pump quickly to her head and she felt that familiar fight or flight reflex telling her to insult his hair, or his face, or just _anything_ to get her out of this conversation, and far away from the truth.

However, Gerald simply laughed warmly at her panicked expression and reminded her carefully, "Helga, come on, I'm _reading _your book!"

Out came a shaky and relieved breath, "Oh, right, of course." she conceded, playing it off as calmly as she could.

Phoebe now spoke up again, possibly sensing that the conversation had taken a turn down a path Helga was notoriously terrible at handling, "Helga, did you know Gerald has his own business?" she said giddily, like she might have been the happiest girl residing on this planet at the current moment and, well, maybe she was.

"No, I didn't." Helga responded, a little surprised, and turned her attention over toward Gerald once more, "Is it here in Hillwood? I've only been back for a few months and I haven't had a good chance to check things out yet."

Looking a little bashful, an expression Helga thought she may never have seen on him, Gerald nodded slightly, "It's not exactly _my_ business, but I do run it now." he explained modestly, "It's Crown Jewellers on Vine Street."

Helga, who had picked up her glass of soda, now slammed it down rather abruptly onto the table and resisted the impulse to spit it out all over the tabletop. "Crown Jewellers?" she managed to squeak out after fully swallowing the mouthful of Yahoo, "The one right by the Boarding House?"

"Yeah, that's the one, really convenient when I wanna drop in and see my best buddy." Gerald confirmed warmly, clearly failing to notice Helga's sudden drinking difficulties, "I gather you've been there then, Helga?"

Wondering how many times during this conversation she was going to be backed up into her metaphorical emotional wall of secrets, Helga nodded slowly, "Once or twice." she said nervously, "When I was younger."

Gerald immediately raised an eyebrow at her comment, and Helga was quick to internally sold herself for being so forthcoming, "When you were younger?" he repeated, as though maybe he hadn't quite heard her correctly, "What could you have needed from a jeweller when you were a kid?"

Phoebe, bless that girl, now suddenly launched into a convenient coughing fit, and although Helga was quick to notice that the poor girls acting skills were second-rate, it did the trick on Gerald and his attention was immediately removed from the jewellery conversation.

"Oh, I suppose I drank too fast." Phoebe smiled weakly, forcing out a few more horrible sounding splutters, and fluttering her eyelashes carefully at the man beside her.

Gerald's hand moved to pat her back a little, "Are you okay?" he asked, voice full of concern.

"Yes, I'm just fine, thank you Gerald." Phoebe assured him sweetly, with an adoring gaze that could make even the biggest romantics want to cringe.

Thankfully, before Helga had to conjure a polite way to break them from their lovers trance, Emma reappeared by their table with three dishes in hand, and swiftly began to place the meals down in front of each person.

"Enjoy your meals, and let me know if you require any further drinks." she offered politely, as the three friends gazed down at the irresistible looking plates of food that had just been placed before their hungry eyes.

"Thanks." Helga smiled back at the girl, before she turned away to wait on a group of people that had just entered the doorway to the French restaurant.

Gerald broke his concentration on the food plate, to cast another careful look in Phoebe's direction, double checking that she was indeed certainly okay after her large-scale coughing episode and after receiving a sweet smile of confirmation, he set about eating his lunch. Helga, who had began eating almost immediately in hopes that food would distract Gerald enough to forget all about wondering why Helga had been to Crown Jewellers as a pre-teen, watched this further interaction carefully from the corner of her eyes and a concerning thought popped into her head.

Finishing off her current mouthful, Helga frowned a little and directed her gaze in Phoebe's direction, "How are you two going to work the long distance thing?" she queried, equally as worried about the possible solutions as the two of _them_ may have been.

Phoebe slowly glanced up from her plate of food, and cleared her throat, looking over at Gerald like she was non-verbally checking something, "Actually, Helga..." she began carefully, "There's more than enough research on offer for me in the Hillwood lab, and Gerald has his business here, and well, _you're_ back in Hillwood too... so, I thought I might move back home."

Helga, who was this time right in the middle of a mouthful of food and simply didn't care, mumbled very ungraciously, "Pheebs, that's great!" and began to wonder if everything had _ever _been more perfect, when Gerald began to speak again...

"Helga, if you're seeing somebody maybe we could all double date." came his unexpected suggestion, just as Helga was thinking she was well away from awkward emotional conversations for good during this lunch.

Classily, Helga's initial bodily response was to go slack, meaning her fork fell from her hands and clanged loudly against the plate, earning her a strange look from Mr Johanssen. "Uh, no." Helga responded, between a few startled splutters, "No, I'm not seeing anybody."

Phoebe, once again preparing to come to her best friends aid, said quite sweetly to her boyfriend, "Uh, Gerald... Helga, um..."

Luckily, this slight pause in Phoebe's already failing explanation gave Helga a chance to regain her senses, and she quickly cut in, "It's okay, Pheebs." she assured her flustered looking friend, before turning her focus back to the boy with the impressive afro, "Look Geraldo, I do a lot of things, I write, I cook, I help confused kids, I speak five different languages, I can recite any Shakespeare play from beginning to end, but, I do _not_ date."

And, feeling rather confident after that evasive yet detailed explanation, Helga resumed eating her food as though nothing had ever happened.

Gerald was quiet for a moment, "Well, considering all of that I guess you don't even have time to date." he finally mused, then turning his own attentions back to the delicious steak he had ordered.

Smirking, and making sure to properly finish her mouthful of food before attempting responses this time around, Helga coolly added, "I wouldn't want to make time for it anyway." hoping that would put the final nail in the coffin regarding Gerald's idea for group dating events.

Unfortunately, Gerald didn't quite seem to be finished with the discussion, because he raised an eyebrow at her comment and, very politely, asked, "So... I wouldn't be able to set you up with any friends of mine then?"

"No, Hair Boy." Helga frowned, now finishing off her last mouthfuls of Ratatouille, "No way."

Helga noticed Phoebe looking at Gerald inquisitively for his apparent determination to free Helga from the single life, but eventually she seemed to shrug it off and return to her meal and Helga had no time to ponder why Phoebe would have felt so strangely about the situation, because a check of her watch confirmed that it was time for her to leave.

"Sorry to skip out so quickly, but I have a meeting with Arnold at three-thirty to discuss Angela's progress." Helga announced, and from the look in Phoebe's worried eyes she could tell she had sounded incredibly anxious during that sentence.

Gerald smiled brightly at her, "No worries Pataki." he assured her enthusiastically, "Say hi to my main man for me!"

To her credit, she hadn't fainted yet and she even managed to casually assure Gerald that she, "Will do." and then bid a relatively normal farewell to her best friend, "See you, Pheebs."

"I'll give you a call later tonight, Helga." Phoebe assured her firmly, with an encouraging smile and a small knowing look and Helga managed to relax a little knowing that, no matter what, Phoebe would be there for her at the end of the day.

"I'll be counting the minutes." Helga assured her, and although it wasn't said entirely seriously, she knew that she probably _would_ be counting the minutes until her best friend called.

With goodbyes completed, Helga turned and left the restaurant, casting one look back at the slightly remodeled Chez Paris and vividly recalling the way it had looked when she was just nine years old. Wishing she could stand there staring, and procrastinating, for a while longer, the tall blonde forced herself onward and toward her car, and thus, toward _double exposure_.


	12. Double Exposure

Helga was reasonably certain that everybody within a ten mile radius could hear her heart beating against her ribcage. Surely, the loud thumping from her chest was causing the odd looks she was receiving as she made her way down the hallways of PS118. Although it may have also had something to do with the expression on her face, she couldn't be entirely certain, she'd been avoiding mirrors all day.

No matter how many times she'd reminded herself that she was an _adult_, a _capable_ one at that, this wasn't looking any easier. Unfortunately, however, she couldn't avoid it and now, despite taking the long way, she had arrived at his classroom door and everything was about to change.

Angela's painting was held loosely in his hands, his adorably football shaped head angled to the side slightly as he tried to make some sort of sense of the abstract creation he was viewing. Maybe it was that little piece of stalker still left in her that made her creep over to him silently, so as to simply observe him observing something, but eventually as she neared the desk he registered her arrival.

"Oh, hi Helga." he smiled, placing the painting down and looking up at her instead, "How was your lunch with Phoebe and Gerald?"

Helga could have sworn his that today eyes were greener than they had ever been, it was a phenomenon that always seemed to occur whenever she was preparing herself for confession. Crazy, she was defiantly crazy.

"Criminy, you two must call each other non-stop." she quipped in reference to his clear penchant for phone calls with Gerald, successfully using her well-practiced sarcasm to skirt around the pressing issue, like usual.

Arnold frowned, "Not usually as much as we have been lately." he practically mumbled to himself, blinking, before looking back to her with his usual cheery expression, "So, how is the happy couple? I think they're stopping by the Boarding House tonight."

"Good." she offered lamely in response, but really, what else could she say at the current moment, after all, her brain was presently in hyperdrive.

"It'll be good to see Phoebe again." he continued as she took a seat in her usual spot, across the desk from him, and spread her notes a little, searching for one _horribly revealing_ document in particular.

Helga managed a smile, a nervous one, but that was the best she could possibly do, "I'm sure she feels the same way." she assured him, rather thankful for the pointless friendly chit-chat, "How long has it been since you last saw her?"

By now, he had placed the painting down on his desk, unfortunately in a position Helga couldn't quite see, "Probably about five years." he said thoughtfully, "Gerald and I saw her when she came home during Spring Break in the first year of college, but then when her parents moved back to Kentucky, she never visited again."

Helga nodded, her parents return to Kentucky had been an impulsive decision Helga had never quite understood, and Phoebe wasn't fond of discussing it. "I'm happy for them... Phoebe and Gerald." Helga announced absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting off to the world of happiness, and requited love, that her best friend clearly resided in at the present moment. Oh, what a nice place that would be to spend a little time in.

"Yeah, me too." Arnold agreed, "About time they did something about it."

Clearly, right now was _not_ the time for comments like that, but she couldn't blame him, after all, as of yet he had no idea what path their discussion today was about to take. All she could do was manage a slow, "Yeah... about time..." and let it linger awkwardly for a moment.

Arnold, forever oblivious, simply pressed forward with the discussion, motioning toward the pile of notes scattered on the corner of his desk. "That's a lot of notes." he said with great interest.

"It's going really well." Helga assured him, even with a genuine smile, so far this was going well, she was liable to pass out at any second, but still, it was running pretty smoothly.

Arnold smiled back, and suddenly her heart rate didn't seem so steady anymore, "I've noticed. You're fantastic with her, you know?" he was still smiling, and she wanted to run for the hills, but she managed to stay seated, "She seemed really peaceful today."

Angela had been peaceful, _Angela... peaceful_, and Helga was forced to remind herself that the little girl with the jet-black hair was precisely the reason she was here doing this. No matter how closely their stories related, or how ironically this had all played out, this was not about Helga, this was about Angela.

"Good." Helga grinned, settling herself with the newfound sense of direction, and a deep breath, "Maybe she'll be ready sooner than I thought."

"Ready for what?" Arnold asked immediately, raising an eyebrow at her and waiting patiently for her response.

Sure, she was shaking like a leaf, but that didn't matter, it was _go time_, it was _D-day_.

"Ready to be honest..." she began, and even she didn't like how much she had to literally force out the end of the sentence, "..with Dean."

Arnold was intrigued, Helga could clearly see it, and he had every right to be, he was probably incredibly confused already and they hadn't even reached the heart of the issue. "Honest with Dean?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow, "What's there to be honest about?"

One deep breath wasn't quite enough, so she took three. It was ridiculous, but she was scared. "Arnold, Dean is very important to Angela." and here it was, she was ready to say it without quite saying it, "She's in love with him."

Shutting one eye and biting her lip wasn't entirely the bodily reaction she wanted to adopt after that sentence, but it happened nonetheless. So, with lip in teeth and one eye watching, she looked to Arnold for his response and it wasn't quite what she expected.

Sure, he flinched a little, and he looked shocked but there was no look of realisation, no awkward silence, just a question, "Are you sure?"

Helga rolled her eyes, she almost couldn't believe it, but then again maybe she should have, "I should have known it would shock you." she half muttered to herself.

"Well, did it shock _you_?" he asked in response, looking at her with only a slight frown.

Helga wasn't certain what to do, he'd missed it, he'd completely missed the point – hadn't he? What was she supposed to do, _how_ was she supposed to answer that question, "Of course not." she continued, she may as well give him one more tiny clue, "I knew the moment I walked into the classroom and saw her throw a chunk of eraser at him."

Arnold's reaction was a little slower this time, a gradually forming frown, and Helga's stomach churned a little with worry.

"Why didn't you mention it sooner?" he asked, the frown still present, but no other noticeable reactions otherwise.

"Several reasons." she shrugged, "But mostly because I wanted her to confirm it first." and that wasn't entirely a lie, more like a stretching of the truth, so she didn't feel guilty.

Now his head was resting in his hands, actually he looked stressed, "Helga, she's _horrible_ to him." he groaned.

Helga pursed her lips together, he really wasn't following, not in the slightest, "Does that surprise you?" she inquired hesitantly.

"Yes, a lot actually." was his answer, and Helga was wondering how one person could fail so very plainly at reading between the lines, "I mean, it's not even the fact that it's Dean – I'd be surprised to know she felt that way about anybody, she's horrible to them all."

Sighing deeply was all she could do, right now she couldn't tell whether his denseness was a curse, or a blessing, "Arnold, Angela doesn't know how to express love properly." she hated saying this out loud, but what could she do, "Nobody has ever shown her love, what example do you expect her to learn from?"

It wasn't even the fact that this was Arnold she was speaking to, she simply hated saying that sentence, or anything like it, to anybody. She supposed it felt somewhat like stabbing her own self in the heart. Currently, it didn't help that Arnold was staring at her intensely, like he was looking right through to her very soul and it made her wriggle in her seat uncomfortably.

Suddenly, his expression became a smile, "I think they'd be perfect together." he deduced, much to Helga's surprise.

"_What_?" she exclaimed, cocking her head to the side a little, "You do?"

Arnold nodded, smile still present and Helga wished he knew exactly _what_ he was saying would be perfect right now. Basically, by deduction, he just said _they_ would be perfect together, and for a brief moment she'd forgotten how to properly breathe.

"Dean wouldn't agree though." he said, his face scrunching a little, "I think he has a crush on Katherine."

Helga frowned, her knowledge of Angela and Dean's classmates was patchy, and she'd gained most of her knowledge through coincidence, but she could vaguely remember the small, pretty looking girl Dean had spent most of his afternoons with on the playground. "Katherine, that's the blonde girl, right?" she assumed.

Arnold nodded, "Yes, that's her." he confirmed, drumming his fingers along the tabletop a little bit as he thought, "I can see why he likes her, she's a sweet girl."

_Li-la_, the name sprung to mind immediately, and even internally it carried a sarcastic and drawn-out tone of pure distaste. Not that Helga didn't like Lila as a person in general, because much to her disappointment, she really did... it was just a simple matter of _needing_ to hate her, considering the circumstances.

"It reminds me a lot of me with Lila, actually." Arnold now laughed a little, and Helga wondered if he possessed mind reading powers. No, what was she thinking; he was dense as a doorknob.

"Ah, Little Miss Perfect." she managed to respond, her tone remaining casual, which she inwardly congratulated herself for, "I expect you're probably engaged to her or something by now, right?"

Truthfully, she wanted him to say no, but maybe it was for the best if he _was_ still crazy about Lila Sawyer. That way Arnold could live on being dense and in love with the picture of perfection, and Helga could scurry back to that Arnold-free life she'd slowly become accustomed to over the past twelve years.

Arnold laughed again, "_No_." he said, very firmly if she did say so herself, "We dated in eighth grade, for two weeks."

"She dump you again?" Helga couldn't help but ask, raising an eyebrow at him, maybe it was offensively presumptuous, but she wasn't about to start sugar-coating her words. She wanted answers.

"No, actually, I broke up with her." he explained, not looking bothered by her question in the slightest, maybe even happy for the chance to explain.

Honestly, that made the happiest little tingling feeling shoot through her, and she wasn't entirely proud of that, clearly not all of those nine-year-old reactions had been disposed of over the years. "Woah, you'll have to give up the details on that one." she instructed.

"I guess you'd understand this better than I do, but, whenever I was chasing after girls, I felt so detached from my normal life." he began, a small frown on his face, "It was like two separate pieces of a puzzle, if I was chasing after super sweet pretty girls then I wasn't saving people, and if I was saving people, or giving them advice, I wasn't chasing after super sweet pretty girls. I guess, dating Lila, made me learn the hard way that those two puzzle pieces didn't fit together."

Currently, she wasn't certain how to respond, a round of applause for him _finally_ figuring that out would have been too over the top, and a nonchalant shrug probably would have been too little. Instead, she stared at him curiously, waiting for the story to continue.

"Lila and I had been together for maybe just over a week when Mr Green stepped down as Hillwood City Mayor, due to health concerns. Rex Smythe Higgins II resumed the role, you know, the father of that rich bratty kid from PS119?" he watched for her reaction, and when she nodded to indicate she remembered him, Arnold began to speak again, "Anyway, Smythe Higgins couldn't have cared less for the overall wellbeing of the city, he was in it for personal gain alone, that much was obvious. After a few months in office he decided he wanted to excavate the entire Western side of Tina Park, which he sadly _owned_, to build a monument to his family's prestige. Gerald and I tried to stop him, of course, but Lila was so wishy washy about the whole thing, actually she began to annoy me. I wanted her to _pick_ a side and stick to it, I wanted her to have an opinion, even if it was the opposite to mine. Actually, I almost wished she _would_ disagree with me, just so we could fight about it."

Helga smirked, "I hate to say I told you so..." she laughed, "But..."

"I know, I know." he looked at her apologetically, "I'm sorry."

Shrugging that off was hard to do, mainly because she was desperate to perform some kind of victory dance but she managed it, "No need to apologise to me." she assured him, despite the fact that she had very much enjoyed it, "It's no wonder you didn't trust me back then, right?"

Arnold chose not to answer that question, just simply looked her directly in the eyes and returned the subject to his student, "I want Dean to realise _before_ he makes the same mistake I did."

"Lila wasn't a mistake." Helga assured him, "Just a learning experience."

"Yeah, she was, but honestly, I shouldn't have needed it." he responded, with a shake of his head, and Helga wasn't going to disagree with him on that one, "Did you want to see Angela's latest painting? She handed it in this morning."

Helga nodded, she'd been trying to get a good view of it ever since she walked in, and he quickly passed it over to her. She could literally feel her eyes expanding into some kind of amazed stare as she studied the canvas closely.

"She did his real eyes..." was all she could say for the moment, looking down at the realistically painted blue eyes, in between the typical splashes of swirls and splodges.

Arnold cast his eyes over it once more and smiled, "It certainly makes a lot more sense now." he commented.

Helga couldn't help but wonder why she had painted eyes, why now, what did it mean... but her thoughts were stopped there by the loud beeping of a phone, one that definitely wasn't hers.

"Sorry." Arnold said as he checked whatever message he had just received, "I've got to get going, Gerald says he and Phoebe will be dropping by soon."

Nodding, Helga placed the painting back onto his desk and shuffled the various pages of notes left out on the table back into an ordered pile. She was just about to slide them back into her bag when Arnold spoke up again.

"Unless, you wanted to come along too?"

She froze, and gave him possibly the funniest look she could have managed, after all, it didn't make any sense to her. "No, I'll see you tomorrow for dinner anyway." she reminded him, and then cursed herself for doing so, maybe if she hadn't he would have forgotten. Not that it would have done her any good, Phil and Gertie certainly wouldn't have.

Apparently it was a useless concept anyway, because he nodded in understanding, "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow night, 6 o'clock?"

"Six it is." she agreed, reoccupying her hands with the task of finally putting those notes into their correct location. Arnold shot her a smile, and rushed out the door in order to make it home in time for Gerald and Phoebe's arrival. Helga stood alone in the classroom and let out a deep breath, leaning her hands onto the wooden desk, mixed emotions of confusion and relief consuming her mind.

If she wasn't mistaken, she had just escaped that conversation with Arnold absolutely none the wiser.


	13. Missing Something

Helga stirred her soup absentmindedly, staring out across the sparkling marble kitchen with a fairly blank expression. One thing she hated about her apartment was all these luxury features. Sure, it was nice to know she could afford them, but it was all so lifeless, so materialistic. Home was supposed to be warm and fuzzy and Helga had never imagined living somewhere like this anyway. Actually to be honest, she'd always been rather keen on living in a certain Boarding House by this time in her life...

Groaning, she shook her head of the thought, and turned her attention back to the state of the art stove her saucepan sat upon, getting a little taste of the liquid to ensure it was ready to be served. She had only just located the appropriately sized bowl, and began to pour her soup into it, when she heard her phone buzzing in her handbag.

"Hey Pheebs." she puffed a little breathlessly into the receiver, having only made it just in time to take the call, "What's up?"

"Konichiwa Helga!" she heard her best friend respond cheerfully, "How was your meeting this afternoon?"

Helga sighed, in all honestly she didn't quite know _what_ to think of her meeting this afternoon, "Fine, actually." she assured Phoebe, "How was your day with Tall Hair Boy?"

Giggling erupted into the speaker, and Helga playfully rolled her eyes at the giddy girl on the other end of the line. "Magnificent, thankyou Helga." she gushed, "I'm so glad I took your advice."

"Yes, well, giving advice is what I'm trained to do." she responded with a little laugh, who knew that after all these years _she'd _be the one handing out useful advice. How ironic.

"Oh I _know_, Helga." Phoebe giggled again, and this time it made Helga a little suspicious, "Arnold mentioned how wonderful you are at your job during our conversation this evening."

Helga scoffed at her, of course she'd find a way to wriggle Arnold back into the conversation, she should have known. "He did not." she said, surprisingly defensively. Heck, she really needed a good night's sleep.

"Certainly did, Helga." Phoebe stated rather firmly in response, "In fact, he mentioned you a few times."

Where exactly was she going with this, Helga couldn't help but wonder as she swirled the soup around in her bowl a little. "Probably because after today he knows my secret and is patronising me." she sighed, a reminiscent scowl settling on her face for a moment.

Phoebe wasn't giving up easily, apparently, "I'm certain Helga, that maybe Arnold hasn't made the connection." she continued to push, although Helga had already been considering that possibility rather strongly already, "_Or_ if he has, then it certainly doesn't bother him, after all, nothing he said was anything short of complimentary."

"I don't understand what he could possibly have to say about me." she frowned, "We've only been working together for two weeks."

"Helga, honestly, maybe you're missing something?" her best friend suggested helpfully. Yes, she was missing something, her sanity... and that was just for starters.

Helga groaned, and let herself flop on the countertop a little, "Yeah, missing the comfort of my deepest darkest secret _remaining_ a secret." she whined, rather pitifully she had to admit, "He probably has plans to ambush me with questions tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?" Phoebe questioned instantly, and Helga cursed her mental filtering system for allowing that piece of information to slip out into conversation.

"Oh, he insisted I come around to the Boarding House to see his grandparents." she stated coolly, trying to avoiding Phoebe launching into an overly detailed enquiry about the entire situation, "You know how Gertie loves me..."

Giggling was heard again, "Oh Helga, dinner with _Arnold_, ten-year-old you would have been dancing in the streets!"

Helga had to laugh at that, it was probably entirely accurate, either that or she would have been dancing with her shrine. However, "No Phoebe, dinner with Arnold _and _his grandparents _and_ the boarders." she pointed out, "It's really nothing to dance in the streets about."

"If you insist, Helga." Phoebe responded, probably knowing not to push the issue any further.

"You know what, I don't know why we're discussing my lifelong unrequited love when we _should_ be discussing you getting the boy of your dreams." Helga reminded her best friend, who let out an uncharacteristic squeal that Helga hadn't been entirely prepared for.

"Oh Helga, I'm so happy." she rambled into the phone, sounding so smitten it could put a rom-com to shame, "I haven't been this excited since we discovered the mitochondrial genome f-"

Helga shook her head, "Woah, Pheebs, cool it with the crazy scientist lingo."

"Right, very sorry." she immediately apologised, "I'm just over enthusiastic today."

"I'm so happy for you." Helga told her sincerely, barely able to hold back the smile on her face, "You really deserve it." and truly, she couldn't think of anybody more worthy of a perfect ending.

Phoebe sniffled into the phone a little, "Thank you Helga." she tried to hide the fact that she was tearing up a little, "I cannot wait to move back to Hillwood."

"So, are you and Geraldo going to move in together right away?" she asked, and honestly she was curious, as far as Helga was concerned they should just buy a nice house with a white picket fence and get married. But, she _was_ a hopeless romantic, after all.

Phoebe hummed a little, "Well, we certainly discussed the possibility." she revealed, her voice a little uncertain, "But nothing has been decided as yet."

"Hey, I say you should just do it." Helga encouraged, and heck why not just enlighten her friend further, "Actually, get married while you're at it, you may as well."

"Oh Helga." Phoebe giggled again, "You know what, I certainly wouldn't say no..."

Helga picked up her spoon again, letting droplets of red soup drip back into the bowl as she watched, "I know." she chuckled, "Maybe I'll send him a few subtle hints, he _does _own a jewellery store after all."

Firstly, there was a little bit of silence, and then Phoebe's voice quietly said, "Ah yes, the jewellery store you had your locket engraved at, am I correct, Helga?"

Helga blinked, the spoon resting loosely in her hands, and then she groaned. She had given the infamous golden trinket directly to Phoebe, and entrusted it to her best friend to destroy entirely, before she had departed for her new life in California. It had been twelve long years since she'd clutched the heart-shaped locket in her hands, but in all honestly, sometimes she still unconsciously reached for it.

"Yes." she responded with a pained voice, before pausing to consider something for a moment, "You know what, I wonder if Angela has something like that, I _did _see her huddled over some sort of object in the playground once..."

"Hmm, how is Angela?" Phoebe enquired honestly, Helga knew her best friend shared just as much interest, and hope, in the young girl as she did.

Helga resumed the mindless pouring of her soup, and thought back to her earlier discussion, "Arnold says she seems more relaxed during school hours, which is great." she noted, but a frown came to her face, "But, I'm still very concerned about her home life."

There was a slight pause, before Phoebe spoke up again, "Will you be meeting with her parents?" she asked slowly, "To discuss your concerns?"

Helga sighed, recalling the phone conversation she had with Tina just twenty minutes before Phoebe had called, "Tina organised a session with them this Monday morning." she informed her, "I really don't want to come face to face with the loose reincarnations of my parents, but, it needs to be done."

"_Helga._" Phoebe warned, in that 'don't doubt yourself' tone, "You'll do brilliantly, and if they refuse to listen to reason, you can always bring out Old Betsey!"

Unable to help it, Helga burst into laughter, "I think I'll keep that in mind." she grinned, "Thanks Pheebs."

"I suppose I should go..." came the soft voice on the other end of the line, "I do have to arrive early at the laboratory tomorrow morning."

Helga looked down at her bowl, "Mmm..." she agreed unenthusiastically, "My soup is probably cold now."

"Oh, well you get back to your dinner Helga, I'll call you this weekend." she promised.

Frequent phone calls with Phoebe was something Helga could certainly get used to, even better having her around town, "Sounds perfect." she responded, "Goodnight, Pheebs."

"Goodnight Helga." Phoebe wished her in return, before the phone beeped and the line went silent.

Helga sighed, placing the phone back down onto the bench, and looking over at the cold and unappealing bowl of soup. Briefly, she thought maybe she _should _consider dating, after all, eating bland food alone was pretty unsatisfying.


	14. Dinner For Ten

Simply _looking_ at the worn green door to the Boarding House made Helga feel like she was trespassing. Probably because this was the only time in twenty four years she would be entering the house _invited_, and yet she'd been inside more times than she cared to count. She could still remember the very first time she 'paid a visit' to Arnold's room, back in fourth grade, and after that it seemed there was no going back. During sixth grade she could almost confidently say she spent more time at the Boarding House than at her own home, of course that lead to practically every single tenant, bar Arnold and Mr Kokoschka, being very well aware of her visiting habits.

Helga extended her arm, and knocked lightly against the wood, and even that felt weird, considering twelve years ago she would have been slipping inside an open window. Gertie swung the door open seconds later, and even shot her an amused look, because after all, maybe everybody was still _expecting_ her to crawl through the windows.

"Eleanor, oh how glad I am to see you!" the older woman gushed, smiling happily at Helga on the stoop, "And to think, I was almost afraid you'd given up the campaign!"

Helga winced, of course she knew exactly what Gertie had meant, and she wanted desperately to protest that she _had_ given up the campaign – twelve _years_ ago and that whatever, 'rejoining of forces', she was currently wrapped up in was not her choice at all.

"Oh Pookie." came a sigh from behind Arnold's grandmother, and Phil walked into view, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder, "The girl's a psychologist now, she's not going to fall for the old '_I'm a crazy old loon who doesn't quite make sense'_ act."

Gertie shot him a very pointed look, but he continued undeterred, "Besides, I reckon she had us all figured out by the time she was eleven!"

Smiling weakly, Helga shrugged her shoulders, "Sorry." she offered, but it wasn't her fault the little ruse the two had created had never really escaped her notice. Actually, she still couldn't believe how well it had worked on Arnold.

"Oh don't you think I _know_ that Chin Boy?" Gertie grinned at him in response, shaking her head a little at the mere suggestion that she thought she may have been fooling Helga.

Phil playfully rolled his eyes at the age-old insult, or rather loving nickname, "Insults again, Pookie? Really?" he sighed good-naturedly, "Just don't say that too loud or Short Man will hear and he'll start asking questions."

"I don't see the harm in questions, Phil." Gertie scoffed at him in response, "He needs to find out sometime."

Sure, Helga knew them well, but they _were_ very secretive people and their current topic of discussion, which she felt may have been eluded to in her presence at previous times, remained entirely a mystery to her. Whatever the issue was, there had always been clear debate over informing Arnold on the subject.

"Yeah, and he's going to find out by _himself_." Phil insisted, then raising his finger and making an extra comment, "And I better be alive to see it!"

Considering the slight chill of the outside air right now, and how long she had been standing in it, Helga cleared her throat a little to draw some attention away from the couple's coded conversation. Phil blinked at the sound, and turned to look back down at her.

"Oh, sorry Helga." he apologised, shifting to the side and motioning her into the hallway, "Come on in, we'll escort ya to the dining room."

One step inside, and Helga could already feel a familiar sensation welling up inside, that feeling of home she both loved, and yet hated, at the very same time. It was insanity, to feel such a sense of belonging to a place that had never been hers, a place that she had always known she would ultimately have to leave behind.

Realising that she had now been standing, one step clear of the door, for far longer than necessary, Helga cleared her thoughts, "Thanks Phil." she smiled, as she followed Arnold's grandparents down into the dining room.

Helga noticed Mr Hyunh's eyes light up immediately as she stepped into the dining room, and it was no surprise. It was sometime during fifth grade, if she recalled correctly, that he had discovered Helga's role in bringing his daughter Mai home for Christmas the year prior. Countless times he had thanked her, even offered her gifts, and Helga had repeatedly enforced that he _never_ speak a word of it to anybody else. Thankfully, he was a man of his word, and always discreet about the issue.

Mr Kokoschka was the first to speak up at her entry, "Good, the girl is here!" he announced rather loudly, "Now we can eat!" and he looked down at his plate expectantly, as though he hadn't been fed in days.

"Oskar!" Suzie frowned, dealing him an elbow to the ribs, "Don't be rude to our guest."

"But she's going to steal all the food..." he whined in response, looking over at his wife with a particularly pathetic expression.

Suzie, who was clearly embarrassed by his behaviour, cleared her throat and glanced up toward Helga, "Sorry about my husband." she apologised, before leaning over and whispering harshly into Oskar's ear, "She's a _psychologist_, you know."

"Oh, heh heh." the man chuckled nervously up at her, "Lovely to see you Helga, you see, no problems here!" and he shifted to sit straight as a board in his chair.

Helga simply raised an eyebrow at the man, who still wore an ill-fitting suit and gold jewellery his wife probably funded, and took her seat across the table, next to Mr Hyunh. Phil sat in the seat beside Oskar, and gave his hands a quick swat, whilst Gertie made her way back into the kitchen.

"Helga, you're here." came a familiar, and nerve tinglingly gorgeous, voice from behind her and Helga literally felt herself stiffen and freeze in her seat.

Arnold carried in a few trays of dinner, followed closely by Gertie with two more, and he looked down at Helga expectantly. A good response, of any kind, would have been rather appropriate at that very moment but one just was not coming to mind. Curse her inability to function around him, she was _supposed_ to be a distinguished professional.

Helga had never been more thrilled at the sight of Ernie Potts when he, and his family, suddenly appeared in the doorway, and the distraction gave her a few moments to relax her breathing. Arnold, was thus, dragged back into the kitchen by his grandmother.

"Sorry we're late." Ernie announced as he, his model wife Lola, and their little daughter piled into the dining room in quite a rush, "Lilly w- Hey, it's Helga!"

Helga smiled at them, "Hello Ernie, hello Lola."

Helga was suddenly beginning to realise, or rather remember, all the things she'd done for the people of this house. Arnold had helped Ernie approach Lola back when they were in fourth grade, and after a badly ended date, and an apology from Lola, they began seeing each other casually and their relationship progressed slowly but steadily. Unfortunately, it all fell apart just six months later, and Helga had stumbled across Ernie crying one afternoon when she'd used his room's window as an entry point.

"Hello, Helga." Lola smiled back, "This is our daughter, Lilly. Lilly, this is Helga."

Overall, the problem had been a simple lack in communication, and it was all solved rather quickly once she'd managed to drag them into a room together. However, they were always extremely grateful for her intervention, and Helga found that Mr Potts' constantly left his window open for her after that. It proved endlessly useful at the time.

Lilly grinned at her, her messy brown hair swishing as she tilted her head, "Hello Helga, daddy tells me lots of stories about you breaking into the house when you were little."

"Lilly, remember what I told you about those stories." Ernie said to his daughter very seriously, whilst Helga tried to stop grimacing at the comment, "Not when Arnold is around, okay?"

It was official, her life was a disillusioned story of insanity, and she herself was a basketcase. Grown men and their daughters were now protecting her secret for her, what a mess.

"Okay Daddy, I remember." Lilly assured him with a nod, and sent a sweet smile in Helga's direction, which didn't help her feel any better about the situation at all.

Ernie, Lola and Lilly all settled into seats on the opposite side of Mr Hyunh, who was now leaning over toward Helga a little.

"Mai said to say hello." he said to her, his voice low and soft.

Helga nodded slightly, "How is she going?'

"Wonderful." he beamed, "She owns an art store downtown now, and she is engaged."

Since their discovery of her role of 'Christmas Angel', Helga had only spoken with Mai a handful of times, yet she had always liked the pretty Vietnamese woman, and was certainly happy for her successes. "Pass on my congratulations." she responded.

"Of course." Mr Hyunh nodded, "She would love to see you, sometime."

Helga smiled at him, "That sounds nice." she assured him, "Maybe I'll stop by sometime and get her address from you?"

"Yes, yes you can stop by sometime." he assured her eagerly, his eyes flicking over toward Arnold who had now re-entered the room with the last of the dinner trays, "During school hours, maybe."

"Yeah." Helga agreed with a very light whisper, "During school hours."

Oskar tapped his knife against the plate set before him the very moment Arnold placed down the last of the food, "Is it time to eat yet?" he griped.

"Yes, Mr Kokoschka." Arnold sighed with a slight roll of his eyes, "You can eat now."

Phil glared at Oskar, as his fork dived for the tray of meat, "But save some for everyone else, you bum!" he warned, with a shake of his fist.

Gertie sashayed her way into the room, moving to sit at the opposite end of the table, and motioning to her grandson to take his seat. Helga, now then realised, the last available seat was directly beside her, and she couldn't help but shoot a _look_ at Phil and Gertie, who simply responded with nonchalant smiles.

Helga bit her lip, hard. He was so incredibly close to her, and she could _feel_ his warmth, and it was times like these she was practically begging for their skin to touch, their hands to brush, his body against hers and... Woah, she needed to calm down.

"So, Helga." Ernie's voice cut into her intense daydream, "I heard you're doing well for youself."

Suzie nodded, as Helga reached forward to place food on her plate, and despite not really feeling very hungry all of a sudden, she ate it anyway. "Yes Helga, your novel is _fantastic_." Mrs Kokoschka said sincerely, "I've personally read it countless times, even Oskar attempted to read it."

"Hey, did not!" Oksar protested with a mouthful of meat and peas, "I don't read sissy girl books!"

Ernie shook his head from across the table, "It's not a girl book Oskar." he defended, "It's got some pretty _intense_ stuff in there." ending his sentence with a little chuckle.

Helga could feel her cheeks heating a little, and didn't fail to notice Arnold choking on his food slightly at the same time. Clearly, he had read the book. She couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or not. Probably not.

"What kind of intense stuff?" spoke a little voice from next to Ernie, Lilly's hazel eyes darting around the table, searching for an explanation. Helga smiled; she was going to be a smart girl, a good inquisitive mind.

Lola frowned slightly, "Nothing you need to know about." she assured her daughter.

"Do you work with crazy people?" Oskar suddenly announced, yet again not bothering to swallow _before_ talking and, possibly for both of those things, received himself a slap on the arm from Suzie.

Helga shook her head slightly, "No, I work with children with behavioural issues."

Phil chuckled at her from his position at the head of the table, "Interesting choice, Helga..." he teased, and Helga rolled her eyes at him.

"Why do you help children?" Lilly spoke up again, leaning forward against the table to look at her better.

"Because, sometimes they need somebody to talk to." Helga tried to explain as best as possible, "Sometimes they're lonely and a little confused."

Lilly mulled over this for a minute, chewing down a small mouthful of carrots, before turning back to Helga with her next question. "What are they confused about?" she asked, clearly intrigued.

Helga thought it over for a moment, "How to properly express themselves." she settled on for way of explanation.

"That sounds sad." Lilly immediately responded, "Are they sad?"

Helga nodded, Lilly was proving to be incredibly perceptive, it was very interesting, "Sometimes they are." she admitted.

"Were you ever sad?" Lilly continued, shocking Helga a little, "Your eyes look sad."

Panic set in immediately, and Helga knew she was staring wide eyed at the child in absolute surprise. In the back of her mind, however, she was considering the possibility of studying Lilly as the prototype for a well-raised child. Truthfully, she was rather impressed with the Potts' nurturing of their child's intelligence.

Right now, though, an entire dinner table was staring at her and waiting for a response. Helga cleared her throat, the sound cutting through the sudden silence, "Yes, I was sad when I was little." she admitted, trying to sound as confident as possible, "But I'm okay now."

Lilly smiled, "That's good." she said happily, then returning all focus to the plate of food in front of her.

Phil, who was currently looking down at his dinner thoughtfully, now spoke up, "Pookie, what on earth did you put in this?" he questioned, his face scrunching up a little as he turned to his grandson, "Arnold what did you _let_ her put in this?"

Arnold shrugged at him, "I didn't do anything." he promised.

Gertie, however, made no such promise and simply grinned at her husband, "Oh, just a few raspberries, General." she mentioned casually.

"Raspberries!" Phil cried out immediately, dropping his utensils, "How did you get raspberries in _this_?"

Oskar frowned, and inspected his plate very carefully, "I don't taste any raspberries." he said, scratching his head.

Lola glanced up from her plate, "There are no raspberries in mine..." she also noted.

Phil frowned, eyeing Gertie very carefully for a few moments, "You only put them in mine..." he stated carefully, "Didn't you?"

No verbal response was given, but the little hum of amusement from his wife was all the poof he needed. Groaning, Phil stood from the table and shook his head, "That woman will be the death of me." he muttered, now rushing off down the corridor, presumably toward his 'office'.

Helga couldn't help but laugh a little, a smile crossing her face at the exchange between the two. Arnold glanced over to her and smiled too, his eyes lingering on hers for an extra moment before she began to panic. Averting her eyes, she went back to staring solely at the meat and potatoes on her fork.

"Are you married?" Lilly spoke up again, those inquisitive hazel eyes focussed directly on Helga once more.

Lola gasped at her daughter, "Sorry, Helga." she apologised quickly, "Lilly just found out what marriage is and she liked to ask people about it."

"It's okay." Helga assured the girl's mother, before turning her attention back to little Lilly, "No Lilly, I'm not married."

Apparently, this confused the young girl, because she was silent for an extra moment and she looked a little surprised, "Why not?" she wondered, "You're really pretty, I bet lots of people want to marry you."

"I'd marry you, heh." Oskar piped up, earning him a strong glare from his wife, that made him slouch back down into his seat a little, "Sorry, Suzie."

"My mommy and me plan my wedding sometimes, for when I'm a big grown up like you." Lilly announced proudly, a happy grin on her little face, "Do you do that with your mommy?"

Biting her lip, Helga tried to search the expanses of her mind for a suitable response to _that_ question. One that would satisfy a little girls curiosity, and also not _add_ to Arnold's, because Helga knew one wrong word would cause him to pry. "No, I don't do that with my mom." she began slowly, but she knew stopping there would only earn her a '_why_', she was going to have to say it, "I don't exactly have a mom."

Lilly frowned, and Arnold's eyes snapped to her immediately, his plate of food forgotten in the light of such a revelation.

"Everybody has a mom." Lilly's voice informed her, and Helga knew she had slightly confused the poor girl.

Nodding, she agreed, "That's true, and I did have a mom a long time ago." she decided to keep it vague, "But she, uh, had to leave us."

Arnold was staring at her, not in a bad way, but not in a good way either. Actually, he was staring at her like he was trying to figure her out by burning holes into her mind. Helga was restless, she was panicking, and the entire table probably knew it. Heck, even Lilly could probably see the dread in her eyes.

Chaos evidently being the best aversion to this situation, Gertie began to initiate Helga's escape route, by rushing to the piano to play, and sing, _very_ loudly.

Oskar relished her sudden disappearance, and the unattending of her dinner plate, "Oh good, the old woman is playing songs." he exclaimed, reaching over the table, "I can take her food!"

Helga could faintly hear Ernie whispering something along the lines of, _please don't ask Helga about her family_, into his daughter's ear. Meanwhile, Arnold was still staring at her with great concern, seemingly unmoved by the multitude of distractions.

Phil returned to the dining room, given all the noise, cast one glance at Gertie playing the piano and sighed, heading over to the table and stacking empty plates on top of each other.

Sensing an opportunity for temporary escape, Helga stood, "I can give you a hand with those, Phil." she offered, taking a plate in her hands.

"Nonsense, Eleanor!" Gertie insisted, leaning back from the piano, "You'd better be going back to that fancy apartment of yours!"

Helga only had a brief moment to wonder _how_ the woman possibly knew about her apartment, when she heard Mr Hyunh speak up.

"Oskar, you lost the bet!" he insisted, "I told you she would be rich!"

Suzie looked at her husband with horror, "Oskar, how could you bet _against_ that?" she demanded to know, "Of course she's rich, do you know how popular that book was?"

"I don't know." Oskar whined, "I thought maybe she'd blow it on strippers or something!"

Ernie, across the room, raised an eyebrow at him and swiftly covered his daughter's ears, "What would Helga want with _strippers_?" he questioned the European man incredulously.

Oskar folded his arms across his chest, "Hey, there _was_ that part in the book where the girl-"

"Hey, Short Man!" Phil suddenly interrupted, "How's about you see Helga off?" he suggested firmly, motioning frantically toward the front door.

Arnold, who not surprisingly looked a little confused, nodded at his grandfathers suggestion. "Good idea." he mumbled a little to himself, then turning to the group of boarders, "Stop making bets about Helga, okay?" he instructed them.

"Wait, before she goes." Oskar called out, as Arnold attempted to begin guiding Helga toward the door, "I want to know if she ever hires strippers?"

Helga sighed, he was taking the book completely out of context, especially the relativity of the scene. Besides, it was _fiction_, loosely-realistic fiction, but fiction nonetheless.

"Not in front of Lilly!" Ernie scolded him, once again moving his hands back to cover his daughter's ears from the words flying around the room.

Smirking, Helga turned to look at Mr Kokoschka, "Only on Tuesdays." she responded with a laugh, before turning and walking down the hallway, Arnold taking her lead and following.

"See, I was right!" she could hear Oskar declaring from the dining room, to which Helga could hear Suzie sigh in response.

Ernie spoke up next, "She was being _sarcastic_, you good for nothing bum!" he shot back, and that was the last Helga heard and she stepped out onto the front stoop with Arnold.

"Sorry about the boarders." he apologised immediately, as the door shut behind them, "They get excited about company."

Helga laughed, she knew that of course, maybe better than he did. "I know." she assured him, "Lilly's cute..."

"She asks a lot of questions." he grimaced, clearly thinking of the line of enquiry before Gertie had invoked a commotion, "Sorry about that."

Shrugging, she wished he would stop _apologising_ for the strangest things, "No big deal." she smiled, "An inquisitive mind is good at that age."

Arnold smiled back at her, shifting his feet a little on the concrete steps, "Well, you would know." a pause followed, and he looked her over carefully, "Uh, can I ask you something, Helga?"

Two 'something's' immediately came to mind, one being questions about her mother and the other being questions about, well, the possibility of his knowledge of her endless devotion to him. Either way, she wasn't willing to talk about it now, maybe not ever.

"Ah, you know, I really have to go." she frowned, her heart beating fast in her chest, "Could it wait?"

Arnold nodded slowly, and relief flooded her body, "I guess so." he answered, "I'll see you Monday, then."

Helga blinked, she recalled nothing of a Monday, "Monday?" she repeated dumbly.

"Oh, maybe Tina didn't get through to you yet." he began to explain, and Helga could feel the panic rising, "The education board wants me to sit in on the discussion with Mr and Mrs Sanderson. I don't think it's necessary but they insisted."

Wishing this was a phone conversation, so she could put a hand over the receiver and scream profanities to the sky and fall to the floor in dismay, Helga forced herself to ignore the temptation to act like a dying squirrel, and instead forced out an "Oh, good." which sounded painful, despite how hard she'd tried, "I'll see you Monday."


	15. Rick and Dianne

Paperwork was spread everywhere, and as Helga raked it over with her eyes she couldn't see a single shred of it that could be put away. It was all littered with notes, suggestions, talking cues, anything she could use as ammunition, anything she could use to get her through the experience of meeting Mr and Mrs Sanderson. No matter how hard she had tried to sleep the night before, her mind simply continued to race with thoughts and actions to be written on paper, and it had even ended in the tired scribbling of a few sombre poems. Helga could have, probably should have, slapped herself for even putting pen to paper, she hadn't wrote any of her pathetic poetry in years. Why the heck was she doing so now?

Ringing from her desk startled Helga from internally lecturing herself, and she begrudgingly lifted the phone receiver to her ear.

"Doctor Pataki, Mr Shortman is here, should I send him in?" Tina's usually enjoyable, but certainly annoying at this present second, voice chimed into her ears.

Helga sighed, pushing all the available air from her lungs in exasperation, "Yeah, let him in." she conceded, although her tone certainly didn't sound inviting.

Clearly he had been hovering somewhere close to her door, because it took him only a split second to appear before her and consequently prevent her lungs from _refilling_ with air. The last time she had seen Arnold in a suit was the sixth grade end of year dance, the one where she'd tipped punch over his head, which was not a gratifying memory in the slightest. Twelve years later, standing in the doorway of her office in a dressed-down suit, his radiant emerald eyes, his untameable blonde hair, she could guarantee she would be dreaming of _this image_ for weeks, maybe months.

"Morning, Helga." he greeted her, Helga blinked and wondered how his voice got so perfect, before recalling that he was still simply standing there, waiting for her to speak.

"How is it you can be here at eleven o'clock?" she spat out after a quick glance at the wall clock, not entirely the polite greeting she had imagined contributing to the conversation with, but a coherent sentence nonetheless, which was just fine with her.

Arnold shrugged, moving over toward the armchair facing the window, "Mrs Varkel is substituting for the next hour and a half." he explained as he leaned against the armrests of the chair.

"Oh..." she mumbled, knowing she probably should have realised that if the board truly desired him to attend this meeting, that a substitute would have been arranged.

Once again, she was startled by the sound of persistent ringing and this time she looked down at the phone as though it were the very bane of her existence. Arnold frowned slightly, watching her closely as she focussed a steady glare on the inanimate object and delayed the inevitable. Five rings later, and at the point where she knew Tina would soon come knock on the door instead, Helga gingerly took the receiver into her hands.

"Doctor Pataki, Rick and Dianne Sanderson have arrived." Tina informed her, her voice edged with a hint of curiosity, probably at the extended duration prior to Helga answering her call.

Groaning, despite trying not to, Helga relented to the simple fact that the time had come, "Okay, let them through."

Daring a quick look over her shoulder, Helga noticed that Arnold looked a little tense, and was eyeing her cautiously. Ignoring the frustrated, fearful instincts from within her and their demand that she snap at him for watching her so closely, Helga settled for taking a deep breath and waiting for the door to open.

Rick and Dianne Sanderson entered, after what seemed like days but also strangely felt like seconds, and their harsh gazes moved between Helga and Arnold at alarming rates. Just seeing them, their judgemental expressions and their narrowed eyes, sent a rush of burning anger through Helga's body and she suddenly didn't feel so nervous.

"Good morning, Mr and Mrs Sanderson." Helga greeted them, her tone steady and professional as she moved toward them, "I'm Doctor Pataki."

The tall burly man, completely covered in brightly patterned golf attire, spoke up, "I'm Rick, and this is my wife, Dianne." motioning slightly toward the slim, medium height, brunette woman standing beside him in her tailored business suit.

Arnold stepped forward, "Nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Sanderson, I'm Arnold Shortman." he said, before frowning slightly, and very wisely specifying, "I'm Angela's teacher."

Rick Sanderson scratched his head, raking his fingers through the thick black strands of hair, "You're the kid's _teacher_?" he raised an eyebrow, "Heck, I thought Mr Shortman was come kind of crazy imaginary friend or something."

Helga wasn't surprised; she was mad, but not shocked. Arnold, however, stared at the older man, wide eyed, looking incredibly distressed by his lack of awareness.

"Rick, Dianne, take a seat and make yourselves comfortable." Helga suggested, gesturing toward the spacious black lounge opposite the armchair Arnold seemed to have claimed as his position for this morning.

Rick looked as though he may protest, but when his wife took the lead and sat, he quickly followed suit. Dianne immediately reached for a small device from her briefcase, what Helga assumed was a planner of some kind, and began tapping furiously at the touch-screen, "Just how long do we expect we'll be here for this morning?" she asked, hardly raising her eyes from the shiny silver gadget, "I've already had to move two meetings."

Helga frowned, and largely ignored the insensitive question as she began, "I'm sure you're aware that we're here to discuss Angela."

Apparently, she was mistaken because Rick looked bemused, "This is about Angela?"

"Mr Sanderson, with all due respect, I _am_ Angela's counsellor and Mr Shortman is her _teacher_." Helga reminded him, with an icy glare, "So it's highly unlikely that this would be about anyone besides her."

The tall man sighed, "That girl is always causing trouble." he griped, looking to his wife who nodded in concurrence, "What's she done now?"

"Nothing." Helga shot back almost immediately, the snappy response causing the man to jump slightly, "_Angela_ has done nothing."

Dianne, now taking a moment to peer up from her planner in clear annoyance, frowned, "Then _why_ are we here?"

Finding herself a comfortable position in the small chair by the bookshelf, Helga continued her mission, "I want to discuss with you some elements of my sessions with Angela over the past weeks."

"Sessions?" Angela's father piped up dumbly, as though he hadn't been paying attention to a single word uttered during the entire conversation, and it was entirely possible he hadn't, "How many of these so called 'sessions' had our daughter been having?"

Helga, knowing the 'defensive and offended' card was all but a ploy for stalling, simply ignored his question and maintained her level tone, "Angela often feels excluded at home." she stated sharply, searching for eye contact with the two parents, both of whom had averted their gaze, "Mrs Sanderson, I feel your career is impacting your relationship with your daughter and, Mr Sanderson, I think you could drastically improve your communication with her."

Dianne scoffed loudly, lowering the planner onto her lap, "My career is what puts a roof over that girls head." she spat.

"Listen, we feed her and clothe her." Rick growled, "If you're here to get us for some sort of child neglect, you're barking up the wrong tree."

"Food and clothes don't equal a happy childhood, sir." Helga informed him forcefully, standing once more to assert her dominance to the best of her ability, "And their provision certainly doesn't negate neglect."

Helga cast a quick glance to Arnold, who was watching on unblinking, his eyes roaming from Helga to Angela's parents as words were exchanged.

Rick's short snort of air brought her back to the situation at hand, "All these fancy words." he scoffed, "What are you after, pay checks?" then he frowned and tilted his gaze in Arnold's direction, "School funding?"

"Mr Sanderson, we're not interested in your money." Arnold began, and Helga could have almost jumped out of her skin, never had she heard Arnold sound so _stern_, "We're both concerned about your daughter."

Dianne's eyes flicked up once more, "Rick, they're insinuating we don't know how to raise out own daughter." she grumbled at her husband, as though she expected him to fix the situation so she could leave.

Rick glared at his wife momentarily, before turning his focus back onto Helga, "How old are you, anyway, Doctor... Pataki?" he questioned with a frown, "You seem incredibly young for this position."

"I'm twenty four." she responded simply, letting him take whatever he may from that, she owed nobody an explanation for her success. Especially not a man who reminded her so strongly of the person who tried to take it all away from her.

Turning to his wife, who was not paying the least bit of attention to anything but her ridiculous calendar gadget at that particular moment, Rick pointed in Helga's general direction. "Hear that, Dianne, she's just outta college." he mocked, as though she should be ashamed for stepping into the workplace with a fresh degree.

"Mr and Mrs Sanderson, I may be _young_ but let me assure you that I completed eight years of training in the best psychology program in the United States." Helga glared, her tone strict and forceful and despite the anger yelling to be released, she kept her voice even, "I graduated at the top of my class, _and_ I was personally recommended for this position by my predecessor."

Despite being focussed on the two shameful excuses of parents currently sitting in front of her, Helga noticed from the corner of her eye Arnold frowning as she mentioned her education. His fingers twitched sightly as he concentrated, and Helga could only assume he was doing the math regarding 'eight years of training', and she knew that he was probably confused.

Helga blinked, bringing her full focus back to the discussion, but biting her lip at the possibility of _more _details of her life being shed in front of Arnold. "I have written two books that are highly renowned in my field, one of which directly relates to this issue." she continued, watching carefully the expressions of Angela's parents, "I assure you, childhood neglect is my area of specialty."

"Neglect?" Dianne sneered, rolling her eyes at the mention.

Exhaling sharply, Helga felt her fists clench a little at her side, "Your daughter has been, and continues to be, deprived of the love and attention that fosters a healthy childhood." shutting her eyes for a moment, and allowing her tension to ease slightly, she continued, "I _know_ you've noticed her difficult behavior but you simply cannot expect her to thrive in her current home environment."

"So what?" Rick challenged, "You've read a lot of books and psychology stuff for eight years, how does that make you an expert on _my_ family?"

Helga shot him a painful scowl, her chest burning with irritation, "Oh please." she hissed, her voice still steady but seething, "I grew up with an alcoholic mother and a workaholic father. I've experienced your daughters struggle _firsthand_."

Angela's father shook his head, "Yeah, so you say." he patronized.

"Excuse me?" she asked in return, blood pumping fast through her veins at the anger inside but thankfully her outward expression calming. She was determined this would not become a screaming match, she was far beyond this turning into raised voices and shaking fists, she'd been through enough of that in her lifetime.

"I see what you're doing." he shot back at her, apparently certain he had her entirely figured out, just like _her father_ used to do, "Telling us some sob story so we admit to being terrible parents and let you have us investigated."

Professionalism aside, and her desire to handle this maturely aside too, Helga momentarily considered burying his body in a ditch. She was just about at her wits end when an unexpected voice broke into the conversation.

"Listen, Helga is fantastic at her job and she has done _nothing_ but help your daughter over the past few weeks." Arnold began, his voice raised and his eyes narrowed, he was angry and it was clear, "Whether or not she had a similar upbringing or not shouldn't even be a factor here, because she's a trained professional and she knows what she's talking about. _However_, Helga and I grew up together and I can assure you she didn't deserve to be treated the way she was by her family, I would hate for the same thing to happen to Angela."

Arnold paused, and raised an eyebrow at Rick who had grown quiet, and Dianne who had let her planner drop entirely from her hands and vibrate without response in her lap.

"Good, now how about you listen to what she has to say."

Helga blinked, her eyes wide and flicking around the room, her mind temporarily unable to convert thoughts to actions and words.

"Fine." Dianne grumbled a few moments later, "If it will get me out of here quicker, then what do I need to do to 'fix' my relationship with my daughter?"

Slowly, somewhat like a zombie, Helga shifted her body slightly to reach for the bookshelf, her hands grasping a copy of _Swept Under the Rug_ and wordlessly holding it out for Mrs Sanderson to take. "I feel you will both benefit from reading this book." she began, her voice quieter than before but it didn't matter, the entire room was dead silent, "I strongly suggest sessions with a marriage and parenting expert, I personally recommend Doctor Anna Stratton, she works on the next floor of this building."

Dianne raised an eyebrow, but gave no verbal response and Rick remained frozen to his spot, only his eyes flickering to watch the proceedings. Helga moved back toward her desk, rummaging through a stack of cards until she located the correct one.

"This is Doctor Stratton's card." she said, and Dianne took it immediately from her hands, the card tucked into the front page of the book, which the woman was still staring at intently.

"You wrote this book?" she questioned a little dubiously, lifting the novel into the air a little for emphasis.

Helga folded her arms defensively across her chest, "Yes, I did." she frowned, "It's used as a text study at Yale _and_ Oxford, so I suggest you not judge it harshly simply because I was the one who wrote it."

Rick grumbled a little, letting out a frustrated breath of air, "I bet your parents are thrilled that you've chronicled their mistakes on paper." he mumbled as he took the novel from Dianne and skimmed his eyes along the back cover.

"I wouldn't know." Helga spat icily, not thinking before her next sentence escaped her lips, "My mother is dead and I haven't spoken to my father since I was sixteen."

Tightness enclosed her chest as the words came out, leaving her breathless by the time she had concluded her sentence. She closed her eyes tight, wishing there were a way to un-say them, just like always hearing it out loud was like a slap in the face. Furthermore, without even looking, she knew Arnold's eyes had been glued to her the moment her words had registered. She knew he'd have questions, and more importantly, she knew she owed it to him to answer them.

"Yet you're supposed to be some sort of role model for our kid." Rick complained, and despite everything, it still hurt Helga to hear things like that. Never mind that she'd always felt like a failure as a child, a failure as a 'girl', but she hated to feel like a failure to her patients.

Dianne stood, eyeing Helga closely, "We'll read your book." she stated, glaring at her husband when he looked ready to protest her decision, "And we'll see Doctor Stratton too, but, it _better _be worth it."

Helga nodded, knowing this was the best result she could have hoped for considering the circumstances, and a little weight was lifted from her chest. "If your daughter's happiness means anything to you, then I can _promise_ you, it will be worth it." she assured them as they stood from the lounge.

Dianne pocketed her planner, and strode across the room, looking back at her husband briefly until he followed her. "I don't like that girl's attitude." the tall man muttered to his wife as they exited the room, the door swiftly shutting behind them seconds later.

Staring at the door was all she could manage, her hands gripping slightly at the desk she had braced herself against and her mind trying to catch up to everything that had just transpired. Arnold cleared his throat behind her, making Helga jump a little, she wasn't brave enough to turn around so she simply waited for him to speak.

"Helga, if y-" he began slowly, but his voice was cut off by Helga's phone, once again ringing loudly on her desk.

Practically knocking every sheet of paper from the area, Helga lunged for the receiver like it was on fire. She may have vowed, silently and quickly to herself, that she would start to properly answer Arnold's questions, whatever they may be, but that didn't mean she was eager to begin.

"Mrs Varkel called..." Tina began once Helga had lifted the phone to her ear, "Something has happened at school, you might want to let Mr Shortman know."

Helga frowned, "What exactly?"

Tina paused for a moment, a little humming sound and the rustling of papers as she searched for whatever piece of paper she had written the information down on, "It seems a child... she said his name was Peter, was threatening a classmate."

"Oh, I'll let him know." Helga responded, her mind trying to sift through the faces of Arnold's class attempting to recall who Peter may be, "Thanks Tina."

Arnold tilted his head a little and looked at her curiously as she placed the phone back down.

"Mrs Varkel called, you'll probably want to get back to school quickly, sounds like there's been a disagreement." Helga said simply.

"Disagreement?" he repeated with concern, "Between who?"

Helga shrugged, feeling silly for not having properly asked, like in some crazy way she had let him down, "Apparently a boy named Peter, and the other person involved was not named."

Sighing, Arnold placed a hand to his forehead, "Uh, Peter." he uttered with a little frustration, reaching for his jacket on the armchair.

"Who _is_ Peter?" Helga asked, curious to know before he left.

Arnold, who had just reached the door and placed his fingers onto the handle, turned with a thoughtful expression, "I guess, considering the circumstances, you'd probably know him better as 'meatball'." he said with a smile, and before she could even blink, the door was closed and Arnold was gone.


	16. Doctor Angela Sanderson

Helga was mistaken, for one quick moment, in thinking that some sort of explosion had occurred within the streets of Hillwood. Panicking, she lifted her eyes from her wooden desk and out over to the window, but as she moved to peer down into the streets she heard a stomping noise close by and realised the noise had actually come from _within_ her office. Angela Sanderson, the young girl who had made the noise by ploughing through and slamming shut the door, was now pacing by the bookshelf.

Placing her warm cup of coffee gently onto the desk, Helga swiftly stood and moved over to the couch. Indicating that she had registered the young girls presence, and was ready for her to talk if she wished, without getting _too_ close and upsetting her.

Angela ran her fingers along the spines of two thick red books, "You talked to my parents." she hissed.

Helga grimaced, "Angela, I had to, it's standard procedure..."

"Stuff your standard procedure!" she snarled in response, "You could have _told_ me."

Helga shook her head a little, despite the fact that Angela couldn't see her, "If I'd told you, Angela, you would have found a way to stop them coming." she pointed out as calmly as possible.

"Yeah?" Angela scoffed, pulling two books out and switching their positions on the shelf, deliberately disturbing the precise alphabetical order, "Well, it's not like I wanted any part in your crazy psycho stuff in the first place."

Raising an eyebrow, Helga took an extra minute to watch the young girl closely, her defensive attitude and avoidant posture, "Angela, is something wrong?" she asked, and then made herself entirely clear, "And I don't mean me talking to your parents, I mean, what's _really_ got you in this mood?"

Angela turned, and shot her a piercing glare, "Nothing."

Helga blinked, taking in the brief moment she'd had to view the girls face, which was red and puffy with a swollen black eye forming. Remembering the phone call earlier in the day from Mrs Varkel, regarding the fight, she carefully stated, "Angela, please tell me you didn't get involved in a fight with Peter at school today."

"I didn't get involved in a fight with Peter at school today." Angela parroted back immediately, now fully turning to face Helga seeing as the discovery had already been made.

"Angela..." Helga warned.

Angela rolled her eyes, "I didn't!" she protested, "Meatball would never pick a fight with me, he's too much of a wuss, besides, I don't need to use my fists to get him to do whatever I want."

"Okay." the tall blonde woman conceded, "Well, what about that black eye then?"

Finally, the girl sighed and eased a little, "I stepped in front of his fist." she said, gazing up at Helga tentatively, "Peter tried to stop the swing when he saw me jump in front but it already had too much momentum."

Helga pursed her lips, and was truly bemused for a moment, "Woah, hold up..." she frowned, tilting her head a little, "Why would you step in front of a pun-... Peter was trying to hit _Dean_?"

The young girls mouth twitched a little, but she nodded in confirmation, "Misunderstanding at lunch." she said softly, "Dean never meant to trip him, it was an accident but stupid Meatball was pretty mad about the whole thing."

"I thought Mrs Varkel talked him down?" Helga responded, looking up curiously at the young girl who was still yet to sit down, just continued hovering by the bookcase unsteadily.

"At _school_, yeah, but I knew he'd follow Dean home later." Angela pointed out, and Helga couldn't blame her for being concerned about it, "Try to make a point, you know?"

Nodding slowly, Helga pushed for further information, there was something more than just a hit to the face going on here, "Okay, so you followed him, you took the punch for Dean..." she repeated, "And then?"

Angela took a little breath, short and incomplete as far as Helga could tell, "Meatball freaked out, ran off blubbering and I shouted after him not to mess with me again." and then she stopped dead, looked at Helga with wide eyes and turned away once more.

Now even Helga felt nervous, "And then..." she prompted once more.

Angela turned, her eyes still wide, and her fingers fumbling with the hem of her sweater, "DEAN STARTED ASKING QUESTIONS." she screamed, so loud Helga heard Tina drop a mug on the kitchenette floor nearby, and the birds resting on the windowsill scatter immediately. Helga was thankful at that moment that she was accustomed to such shrieking, even though it was generally her own, and that it hadn't burst her eardrums.

Pacing backward and forward, taking short steps, followed by long steps and still grabbing at her sweater, Angela took a few heavy breaths to return air to her lungs. "I wasn't prepared, I couldn't think of a good excuse for, well, what I'd just _done_." she explained, her voice high and forced, "I told him it was just my community service for the week, but no dice! I couldn't THINK of anything else so I... I..."

"You?" Helga asked, her breath hitching in her throat as she watched Angela pace so fast it could have burnt holes in the carpet.

Angela stopped dead, right by the book shelf, "I TOLD HIM!" she screamed once more, this time even louder, before grabbing hold of the shelves and banging her forehead against the wood.

Under regular circumstances, Helga would probably have done one of two things, the first being to suggest that she cease damaging her skull on the bookcase and the second to move closer and comfort her. However, Helga was uncharacteristically _frozen_ to spot, with wide eyes, with memories and regrets of her own flashing before her eyes in some sort of eerie montage.

"Oh, this had been a _terrible _day." Angela continued to exclaim, now resting her head against the wood and shutting her eyes tight, "I'm going to hit Evan _so_ hard next time I see him."

Helga, still floating in a sea of nostalgia, raised her hand like a student asking a question, "Wait, wait... so..." she began, straining to bring herself back to the present, "You told Dean you love him?"

Angela slowly lifted her head from the bookcase, and peered over her shoulder to nod.

"And, after you told him..." Helga continued, biting down on her tongue a little, "Did he look petrified and back into a corner?"

Curiously, the young girl slowly turned her entire body to face Helga once more, raising an eyebrow at her but not saying anything in response.

"And then, you jumped him and kissed him?" Helga guessed, her face more than likely a scary shade of pale and blank horror.

Angela blinked in surprised, "Uh, yes..." she mumbled awkwardly, before scowling slightly and adding, "But you better not tell _anybody_."

Helga simply continued, "Right, and then after that he was really confused and repeated exactly what you just said like he was deaf?" she wondered, her head tilting slightly and her finger tapping against her leg, "And so then you _asked_ him if he was deaf?"

"Ummmm, yes..." Angela frowned, "This is creepy, were you THERE?"

Shaking her head, Helga took a sharp breath, the memories infiltrating her thoughts were crystal clear and the sensations she'd felt as a nine year old on top of the FTI building ran through her body like it was happening all over again. "No." she spoke in response to Angela's question, "But I suppose the next thing you did w-"

"Ran away?" Angela provided, effectively explaining _her_ situations ending, but completely starling Helga from her vivid memories.

"You ran away _then_?" she choked out, looking at Angela with the utmost astonishment.

Angela glared at her intensely, "Uh _yeah_." she spat back, as though she were wondering what other option there could _possibly _have been.

Helga blinked, and pursed her lips together thoughtfully, "Criminy..." she exclaimed softly, "You have far more self control than I ever did."

Now, the young girl was incredibly curious, her eyebrow raised and she cocked her head to the side a little, "Well, what the _heck_ did you do?" she demanded to know.

"Tried to jump him again..." Helga winced, sounding guiltier than a sinner in the confession booth.

Angela stared at her incredulously, her eyes wide and the only sign of movement the small rising and falling of her chest. "You... have problems." she eventually spoke, her head moving from side to side a little.

Helga could almost _hear_ Gerald somewhere in the back of her mind saying "mmm mmm mmm" and giving her that _look_. "Thank you for noticing, Miss Sanderson." she huffed, "But I believe we were discussing _your_ confession right now."

"Fine." Angela frowned, probably at the word 'confession' and the very fresh memories it brought about, "But we will be discussing _you_ later."

Helga rolled her eyes slightly, "Sure, Angela, but for now tell me how you feel about what happened today."

The dark haired girl went quiet for a moment, and moved to sit down beside Helga on the black leather couch, "Stupid." she finally said, "I feel stupid."

"Angela, you shouldn't feel _stupid_." Helga said, casting her a knowing glance, to which Angela sighed and shrugged, "Alright, we can discuss that more later. Next question, do you regret it?"

Angela scrunched her face a little, "Regret what?" she asked smartly, "Taking the punch or turning all rapist on him?"

Gasping, Helga shuffled back on the lounge to look the ten year old girl in the eyes, "Where the heck did you learn the word rapist?"

"Same place I learnt the word tantric." she shrugged, a coy smile on her lips, "Oh, and the quote _'enraptured with passion, trembling beneath his gaze, forever enslaved by his sp-'_."

"Angela!" Helga cried out in protest, crossing her arms and giving a stern shake of her head, "You really shouldn't have read my book; it's for _mature_ audiences for a reason."

Rolling her eyes, Angela rested her chin in her hands, "So did that stuff really happen?" she asked curiously, "Or is it just fantasy?"

Helga frowned, "It's complete fiction Angela." she informed her sharply, before adding defensively, "And it's not a _'fantasy_', what kind of fantasy has a sad ending?"

"I don't know." Angela shrugged, "Personally, I think the story is a little messed up, the girl could have just _said _how she was feeling."

Sitting back a little, and resting her weight onto her elbows, Helga raised an eyebrow at the young girls remark, "But, what if she was rejected?" she challenged, "Wouldn't that hurt?"

She simply shrugged again, "Yeah, sure." she conceded, "But surely she's not some little wimp that couldn't handle reality, you get over that kind of stuff eventually, right?"

"Exactly." Helga smiled, redirecting the conversation, "So why are you so scared about what happened today?"

Angela sat silently for a moment, blinking once or twice as the realisation set in, "Oh..." she hummed a little, a slight smile forming, "Right... but, you're not suggesting I go back and do it properly though, right, like _explain_ it?"

"No, you don't have to if you don't want to." Helga shrugged, "You can just leave it as it is, let him handle it how _he_ wants to."

"I guess so..." she pondered for a moment, her lips pursing and pouting periodically as she thought the situation through, "But will he try to talk to _me_ about it?"

Helga shifted again, bringing herself upright by Angela's side, "It depends." she responded to the question, her mind sifting through the possibilities, "Maybe he'll just pass it off as a fluke, like 'heat of the moment' and never bring it up again.."

She had winced the moment she'd said the words, and she knew it. Not once, not one single time, since FTI had she spoken the words 'heat of the moment' and the very phrase made her feel like throwing something. It brought about a feeling of both relief and pain that was so strange, it made her physically ill.

Angela, it took Helga a few moments after the queasy feeling had passed to realise, was smirking at her. "You know what, sounds like you made a real mess of it the first time." she observed, her arms folding across her chest, "You should tell him again."

"Angela, that all happened a _long_ time ago." she assured the young girl, laughing off the situation as best possible, "What makes you think I even know the guy anymore, he might have moved towns or got married or something."

Angela rolled her eyes, and unfolded her arms to scoot a little closer on the couch, "Oh yeah right." she taunted, "Like I _haven't_ noticed that you're in love with my teacher."

Frozen, Helga was frozen and she couldn't move, her eyes were so wide she felt like her vision had tripled, had her office _ever_ looked so big? No, it hadn't. And her jaw was dropped, she was only aware of it because it ached a little and she couldn't move it if she tried.

The younger girl hopped to her feet, sending a little scowl Helga's way before placing a hand on her hip, "You keep acting like I'm _not_ the smartest kid you ever met..." she challenged, "Which I _am_."

Helga wasn't entirely certain whether she wanted to let out an ear piercing scream, or attempt to dig herself a hole in the office floor and disappear into it. Angela, however, was clearly enjoying this.

"That's a terrible expression on your face." she chuckled with a shake of her head, "Don't freak out, he has no clue."

Helga sighed loudly, allowing her breathing to resume as per normal, and she flopped backwards, her body slightly sprawled over the leather lounge. "Once again, Angela, we're supposed to be talking about _you_ right now." she quipped, staring at the ceiling in disbelief.

Shrugging, Angela stepped backward from the couch a little, "Yeah, but _I'm_ going to actually grow a spine and deal with this." she pointed out, "No offense..."

"None taken." Helga sighed, rolling on the couch to look at the girl.

Angela smiled at her, "I better get going, I have a lot of emotional preparation to do, you know, in case he rejects me." she paused for a moment, frowning at the prospect of rejection, before waving to Helga and scurrying out the door.

Helga groaned and sunk into the comfortable couch once more, Angela Sanderson was right, she was _spineless_.


	17. Overtime

Helga slid her finger along the sides of her newest report for the school district, flicking through the two hundred or so pages of information. Reporting was always tedious, documents had to stipulate no less than every topic covered and each observation had to be thoroughly justified, however she _knew_ they never read the reports properly. Flexing her fingers slightly, she tried to relax her aching hands, which had spent so much of the night moving across her keyboard.

Knocking sounded softly from her office door, and Helga blinked, raising her head to look at the door with confusion. It wasn't often that somebody approached the door directly, usually Tina would call first, but as Helga dared a glance out the window at the dark night sky, she realised her dependable receptionist would have gone home hours ago.

Slowly, the door opened and Helga's breath caught in her throat for a moment as her gaze set upon golden blonde hair and deep emerald eyes. Arnold peered into her office cautiously, as though he wasn't entirely certain if his presence was welcome, "Hi, Helga..." he began carefully.

Immediately, Helga waved him in, and maybe it was the slowly climbing fatigue, or maybe it was Angela's words earlier that day, but she had decided it would be okay, she would answer his questions. "Arnold, what are you doing here?" she frowned, and although she had an inkling, it _was_ late; almost ten o'clock to be precise and it seemed a strange time to stop by.

Arnold cleared his throat a little, gently shutting the wooden door and coming to a standstill in the entryway of her office, "I thought I'd check on... things..."

"Things?" Helga frowned, "What things?"

"I guess, Angela's parents..." he began unconvincingly, his eyes focussed on the city lights beyond the window, "... and, well..."

Helga took a sharp breath, and shifted in her chair a little, "Arnold, you were here for that." she reminded him, "Are you trying to bring up _my_ parents?"

Instantly, he looked incredibly guilty, like he hadn't wanted her to be consciously aware of his descent into the subject, and he shuffled his feet on the floor slightly. "Helga, some of the things you mentioned today..." he said, reminiscent of the way she remembered him speaking to her back in grade school, whenever he was concerned.

"You have some questions, I guess?" Helga pushed, a little wave of nerves coursing through her as she asked.

Arnold nodded, "Is that... _okay_?" he checked once more.

Sighing, Helga motioned toward the lounge, wordlessly asking him to sit. His shuffling, and standing, was making her feel nervous, watched, strange and she just wanted him to sit and relax. "Yeah, it's okay." she assured him as he made his way to the large black couch.

Once he was comfortable, he looked up at her expectantly and, swallowing a bundle of nerves and excitement, Helga moved from her chair behind the desk to sit on the other side of the couch with him. Sure, there was a sizable gap between them, but she could feel the butterflies in her stomach, the tingles streaming their way through her body.

"Helga." his voice made her blink, pull her thoughts away from warm sensations his presence was causing her, and back to the impending conversation, "What happened to your mom?"

This was it; this was the beginning of _talking_ about it, and with Arnold Shortman no less. Helga sighed and began, "Miriam drank herself to death one summer afternoon.. I was fifteen." she bluntly explained, "I found her when I got home from school, just _lifeless_ on the kitchen bench."

Arnold frowned, his eyes raking over her face, before he opened his mouth to speak, but Helga swiftly cut him off.

"Don't." she said firmly, shaking her head, "Don't say it, you don't need to be sorry."

Nodding, he honored her request, and instead continued to his next question, "Did it... make you sad?" he winced.

Helga frowned, "I never cried, if that's what you mean." she began, tentatively meeting his gaze for a few moments, "Honestly, I had been waiting for her to finally push her limits, I expected nothing less from her at the time, so what was the point of dwelling on it once it finally happened?"

"I suppose you're right." he conceded, now facing toward Helga's desk, but casting her a quick glance from the corner of his eyes.

Leaning back against the couch, and stifling an exhausted yawn, Helga allowed herself to relax into the plush leather. It was amazing what he did to her, made her tense with excitement and nerves, and yet so comfortable beside him. She could feel, with each and every word escaping her lips, those long-built walls of security crumbling around her.

"I started making myself busy after that, mainly to escape the reality of what was happening around me." she smiled slightly to herself, she'd always felt a calming peace alone in her room, just _learning_ who she truly was, "I taught myself to cook properly, I memorized countless pages of Shakespeare, I even learnt new languages..."

Arnold blinked, and turned to face her once more, "You speak another language?" he asked, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but she swore he sounded at least a little _impressed_.

"Five." Helga shrugged, "Fluent in three."

"That's impressive." he remarked, and she felt her heart skip a beat, or was it two or three, he _was_ impressed.

However, the little scoff that escaped her throat was impossible to hold back, after all, nobody had been impressed with her back then. "Bob sure didn't think so." she said icily, "Couldn't have me expanding my knowledge instead of cooking him dinner every night."

Silence filled the room for a few moments, before Arnold stopped frowning and resumed talking, "I thought your father _wanted_ you to learn things?" he wondered curiously, "Didn't he want you to win awards, and competitions?"

"No." Helga said quickly, her body tensing, repressed irritation surging, against the soft leather of the couch, "Bob wanted _Olga_ to be smart, _Olga_ to win awards and competitions, _Olga_ to succeed... and you want to know what _Olga_ was doing at that point in time? Blubbering into her pillow, with a _vodka_ in her hands."

Arnold looked at her incredulously, "Vodka?" he repeated, "But your mother just..."

Helga grimaced, "Yep, and Bob wasn't happy, not in the slightest." she recalled, the memories flying through her mind causing a burning sensation across her rib cage, "He was just getting angrier and _angrier_."

Without a moment's notice, Arnold had sat directly upright and was an inch or so closer to her on the couch, not that _he_ had probably noticed that but Helga certainly had. "He didn't ever... hurt you?" he asked impatiently, his eyes narrowed, "Did he?"

Helga raised an eyebrow, that feeling of burning was dissipating and she could only assume his closer presence had _everything_ to do with it, "Emotionally? Every single day." she admitted sadly, her voice lower and more uncertain that it had been so far this evening, "Physically? Only once."

"What happened?" was the instant question, Arnold still glancing down at her from his upright position, now looking a little horrified.

Helga screwed her face a little, if there was one memory she didn't wish to vocalise, it was this one but for Arnold, she'd do anything. "I was offered the chance to graduate high school early." she said quietly, like she was terrified, because she was.

"Helga, that's amazing." Arnold smiled, and he looked proud, like she wished _somebody, anybody_ would have been at the time. Thankfully, she managed to repress the little whimper of happiness she wanted to let out as she practically melted against the seat.

"Yeah, but Olga graduated _on_ time." she slowly pointed out, pursing her lips together uneasily, "And as far as Bob was concerned, I was trying to _insult _her, by graduating earlier."

Arnold frowned, "I can't believe he wasn't proud..."

"I can." Helga sighed, shaking her head, "Actually, I should have expected it."

Looking down at her carefully once more, he shifted his hands slightly to brace himself on the couch, allowing him to lean back slightly, "So, um, what happened?" he prompted warily.

Preparing herself, Helga took a short breath of air, remembering that he was waiting to hear about the moment everything fell apart, "Right, after he accused me of insulting Olga, I tried to leave the house, just to get out for a little while and clear my head." she shut her eyes tight, "Bob stood in my way, at the very top of the staircase, trapping me there. He told me I wasn't going anywhere until I promised to graduate at eighteen like any normal kid."

Arnold's voice spoke up again, she didn't open her eyes to look at him, just let the sounds of his closeness wash over her senses and keep her calm. "He didn't... push you down the stairs did he?" he asked, his voice questioning and edged with concern.

"Not exactly." she responded, giving a short shake of her head, despite being uncertain if he was even still looking at her, "I tried to push past him, to get out, and he kept pushing me back. Eventually, I made it halfway past him before he could grab my shoulder, so when he did I tripped over his foot and fell down the staircase."

Helga's eyes were immediately open, and not because she'd decided to open them, but rather because she was now sitting upright, and Arnold's arms were wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She was still breathing, which was a miracle, but her muscles were tense with shock and her heart was working overtime. The warmth of his arms across her back, his chest against hers, make her face flush and her skin prickle. She couldn't stop thinking how much stronger he was compared to the last time she ended up in this position, a chaste hug after winning a class competition when they were ten years old.

"Helga..." he said sadly, as though offering his condolences for her struggles.

Mind racing, she mentally weighed her options, she could berate him for his pity, and make it clear that she didn't _need_ him to feel sorry for her. Not to mention, she could push him from the hug, and speak nothing of it again. However, she wondered briefly if this may be her one and only chance to spend a few moments in his arms, and with that thought she decided to stay where she was for as long as he would let her.

"I-It may not have been directly his doing and he may have apologised for the stitches in my lip, and the back eye from the fall, but..." Helga began, her words wavering and her tone incredibly uneven, she prayed he hadn't noticed, but she was trembling a little in his embrace, "B-But after all the years of neglect, all the verbal abuse, it just wasn't enough and I decided I wasn't going back, I was done."

Arnold slowly distanced himself, his arms unwrapping from her shoulders and the glory and warmth of his hug coming to an end. It caused an uncomfortable sinking feeling through Helga's chest, it felt so stupid to say, but wrapped in his arms was the happiest place she'd ever been. She took a few minutes to steady her heartbeat, considering she felt as though she'd run a mile, so it was a while before she realized one of his hands was still resting slightly on her shoulder. He was looking at her intently, his eyes trying to read her expression.

"What did you do?" he asked, letting his hand slip from her shoulders and shifting his gaze over toward the window, focusing his eyes on the city of Hillwood once more. Helga shivered as his hands, and eyes, left her, she suddenly felt cold, like all the warmth in her world had been stolen away.

"Applied for early completion of my high school studies, and fought for legal emancipation from my father." she revealed, frowning at how _drastic_ that truly sounded out loud, "I lived with my friend from school until I moved to college."

"You went to college at..." he began.

Helga nodded, "Sixteen." she shifted on the couch, allowing herself to lean back and relax again, "Self-funded with scholarships, honestly, it was no big deal... I'd practically raised _myself_ my entire life. It was nothing new."

Arnold's mouth twitched a little, his frown intensifying as he began to speak, "Helga, your family they-"

Letting out a short breath of air, Helga tensed a little in her spot, "They what?" she interrupted, assuming she knew _exactly_ where this was going, "They '_care for me deep down_' and I should go make peace, _do the right thing_?"

"No." Arnold shook his head, making Helga blink in surprise a little, "I was going to say, they don't deserve you."

Helga could only stare at him, speechless for a little moment, her mind reeling and limbs tingling. "Maybe." she managed to choke out, "But it's not like the realise it."

"I think you did the right thing, leaving them." he said sincerely, "But you should have come back to Hillwood, Phoebe would have helped, we all would have."

Helga shook her head, letting her eyes drift shut once more, despite the multiple heart-attacks this man gave her, she never felt more comfortable with _anybody_. "No Arnold, I would have had to explain things to people." she bit her lip slightly, "I... I never tell people about this. Never."

Arnold yawned faintly beside her, and Helga felt her arms twitch a little at her side, reminding her how much she wanted to touch him, put her arms around him and let him fall asleep beside her. She didn't know the time, but it was surely after eleven o'clock, and the thought of spending a night on the couch in her office had never seemed as appealing as it did right now.

"Why?" he asked her, and Helga struggled to pull her thoughts from fantasies of stroking his face and watching him sleep, and back to whatever subject he was asking _'why_' about.

Recalling the topic of conversation, she inwardly groaned a little which managed to escape her throat as a tiny, but audible, squeak. "Everything is safer a secret." she almost whispered, a mixture of nerves and fatigue, "If it's yours and yours alone you can always control it, you don't have to worry about what people think."

"You care _that much _about what people think of you?" Arnold questioned.

Helga hummed a little, her eyelids were heavy and it had been such a long, exhausting day, "I suppose you could call it my greatest weakness." she mumbled out, desperate to curl up underneath a warm blanket.

"Well, it shouldn't be." said a beautiful voice, one Helga has heard so many times before in her dreams, "You're amazing, you know that right?"

Helga almost giggled, colours danced in front of her eyes and everything felt slightly tingly, she wondered is she was already asleep. "No." she droned lazily in response, "I'm hopeless and average."

Hovering over her, was a warmth, not one close enough to touch but one she knew must have been looking down at her, watching her closely as she rested against the couch, eyes closed tight. "Average?" he questioned her quietly, "You think you're average?"

"Mhmmm..." she yawned again, her head nodding weakly in response and her knees slightly brushing against the leather of the couch as she shifted them to a more comfortable position. Okay, so she wasn't asleep yet.

Arnold, and his warmth, moved away from her slightly and was no longer hovering, she heard shuffling along the couch and felt the shift of the material as he too leaned back and made himself comfortable. "Come on Helga." he insisted, "You're the furthest thing from _average_ I've ever seen."

She yawned again, which must have made it at least thee in the past five minutes, "Nothing special, Football Head." she murmured softly, taking no notice of little slip of the childhood nickname, nor the little flinch he made when he heard it, "Nothing special." Helga wasn't certain if he ever responded to that, because everything faded to hazy black and she fell asleep, to her favourite place, the one where Arnold loved her and she could float along the Riviera with him until daylight came.


	18. Arnold & Helga Off The Couch

Grumbling, Helga blinked her tired eyes in the pitch black, managing to focus her blurry vision somewhat on the wall clock. It was difficult, but with the slightest hint of moonlight hitting the clock face she could determine it was just after two in the morning.

Helga shuddered a little, noticing how cold she was from the waist upwards, especially her shoulders in the thin button up shirt she still wore from the day before. Her positioning was becoming more apartment the more she woke, and she became very aware that whatever position she had been napping in for the past few hours was extremely uncomfortable. Not to mention there was a strong, warm feeling around her waist and it felt like her legs were tangled in something.

Shifting on the soft leather of the couch, Helga realised the warm feeling was an arm, draped firmly across her hip. She could only assume, in that case, that her legs were tangled up in _other _legs. Feeling tired and not quite remembering how she ended up on this couch in the first place, Helga craned her neck to indentify the owner of the arm, and legs, and was met with the sight of unruly golden hair and a football shaped head.

Helga wasn't entirely sure what to do, in fact she was paralysed on the couch, eyes wide staring over at him and wondering how the heck they ended up in this position. Unluckily, all her prior shifting appeared to have stirred him from his slumber, because moments later he groaned a little and his body shifted behind her. Helga bit her lip and tried to stop thinking about how _good_ it felt to have his body move against hers.

Arnold, after taking a moment to get his bearings, cleared his throat a little and Helga, still frozen and wide eyed, waited with anticipation for him to start speaking. "Uh, I guess we fell asleep?" he commented softly, almost as though he didn't _know _the answer, which he clearly did.

"Yeah..." Helga responded airily, not an award-winning statement by any means, but really, what else _could_ she say right now?

"Alright..." Arnold continued, and from the corner of her eyes, Helga could see him frown and look down at where their bodies touched, "I'll just move first and-"

Eager to remedy the awkward situation as quickly as possible, Helga nodded and cut him off with a swift, "Okay." before he could even finish his suggestion.

Arnold immediately lifted his arm from her waist and began wriggling his legs free of hers. Helga felt her face grow hot as his legs shifted against the skin of her calves, and forgetting the game plan, she attempted to aid the process by moving her legs too.

Instead of rolling away free and becoming untangled, as she had hoped, Helga's premature movement only served to knock them off balance, sending them tumbling off the couch and onto the floor. Helga's breath was taken away as Arnold landed on top of her, one of her legs still slightly hooked around his, and those sparkling green eyes staring down at her.

Arnold observed her, with an intensity in his eyes that served to make time slow down, "Helga..." he trailed off, as though he wasn't certain what to say beyond that.

"I'm sorry I was so mean to you when we were kids!" she blurted in a sudden urgency, for apparently no particular reason, other than the fact that she didn't feel in control of her own brain at the present moment.

Initially, she felt a little relieved, a little less heavy in her heart to know that, at the very least, she'd managed to apologise for that. That was, until Arnold failed to respond in the normal time period, and Helga noticed that he was just blinking, looking her up and down and she began to feel a little self-conscious. He wasn't moving, wasn't talking, just holding himself above her and sweeping his eyes along her face, across her body.

"Helga..." he eventually spoke, his voice holding nervousness that Helga hadn't expected, "_Please_ tell me I was the only one you ever shot spit balls at."

Helga froze, what was _that_ supposed to mean, what kind of answer was he possibly expecting. Was he asking her, indirectly, if she had loved him? Why on earth was he saying please?

Trapped underneath him, with no place to run and hide, and with Angela's encouragements in mind, Helga managed to whisper back, "You... were the only one..."

Helga squealed, and she knew she flinched a little too, but it was justified because the moment she had completed her sentence Arnold Shortman had _kissed her_.

_Kissed. Her._

And, actually, he still was, his lips were warm and soft and urged her to respond, but she was far too busy trying to convince herself this was _actually_ happening. Where oh where were her natural instincts?

It lasted a few more seconds, before Arnold shifted his weight above her and she could feel him about to pull away. Suddenly, as the touch of his lips became lighter, those instincts her brain was _screaming_ for her to use, kicked in. Wrapping an arm around her neck, she brushed her own lips against his before pulling him back down and deepening the kiss herself.

Arnold relaxed against her a little more, and Helga almost squealed again, he actually _wanted _this, she was making him happy and his body was pressed against hers so _tight_. Before she even had a chance to ponder the feeling of being so close to him any further, she felt his tongue slide across her lower lip and all she could do was shiver.

She couldn't help it, the moment his hand moved, and rested on her hip, she let out a guttural moan and clutched to his golden hair like it was life support. Arnold's eyes flew open the moment he heard the sound, and she scolded herself, one touch of her hip, _outside_ her clothes and she was already so incredibly worked up. How _desperate_ did she want to make herself look?

Instead of running, which Helga was somehow expecting, he actually stroked his hand across her hip once more and his eyes closed again. Helga stopped worrying, and let herself go, let the feeling of his hand at her hips, shifting her shirt across her skin and his lips and tongue sliding along hers etch themselves into her memory. After all, considering she was likely to pass out any second, she'd want to remember it all for later.

Arnold pulled away from her lips slowly, and Helga fought the desire to protest, as he moved to kiss her neck and his breath tingled against her ear. "I missed you so much when you were gone." he admitted softly, his tone so hopeful, so breathless.

Helga skimmed her eyes across his body, up to look at him directly, just hovering above her, staring down at her with that enamoured half-lidded gaze she had _longed _to be directed at her ever since the moment they met. Arnold had _missed_ her when she was gone, Arnold had just _made out_ with her on her office floor, Arnold was looking at her like she was some sort of goddess and she had _never_ felt so beautiful.

"Arnold..." Helga managed to choke out, now suddenly aware that the lack of air to her lungs may not have been a side effect from her shock at all.

Arnold blinked slowly, his eyes still locked on her face, "Hmmm?" he mumbled back.

"Uh..." she said, wriggling a little beneath him, "You're, um, suffocating me..."

Eyes wide with panic, Arnold quickly shifted off of her, "Oh!" he said hurriedly as he stood.

Helga took a few extra moments to gain her composure, and her breath, before sitting slowly and clambering back onto the leather couch. Arnold moved across her office and started out into the darkness, at the lights of Hillwood and, for a good few minutes, silence had completely befallen the room.

Desperately, she wanted to talk, she wanted to explain herself, to confess, to just _say _something to him but she was at a loss for words. She didn't even know where to start. Across the room, Arnold turned from the window and looked her dead in the eyes.

"I love you."

Helga startled, wasn't she the one supposed to be doing the confessing? What the heck was _this_, did he just say that... Was she still asleep? Maybe she was. So, in the interests of safety, Helga pinched herself as hard as possible on the arm, which caused a little yelp of pain.

"Uh, Helga, are you okay?" Arnold asked her immediately, his face filled with worry, and above all, complete confusion.

"NO!" Helga cried out, louder than expected, "Not okay! Not okay at all!"

Arnold winced, "Helga, I'm sorry." he apologised, like he'd done something gravely wrong, "I shouldn't have-"

"No." she interjected again, she wasn't going to mess this up, she _couldn't_, she needed to confess, "I'm... I-I think... I just always... I..."

Sighing, and temporarily abandoning the need for words, Helga grabbed for the closest book, which just so happened to be _The Umbrella Project_, and began hitting it against her head. Now, she understood why Angela had used the bookcase earlier. How could it be so hard, it was just _three little words_.

Arnold moved closer to her, "I'm confused, are you _sure_ you're okay?" he asked, with the hint of a sigh, "Maybe I should go home?"

"No, don't go!" she pleased, knowing she sounded pathetically desperate, but far beyond caring; "I love you!"

Silence held the room for a moment, before Helga let out a delighted gasp.

"I said it, I said it!" she exclaimed to herself deliriously, before looking back up in his direction, "I love you!"

Considering the circumstances, and the fact that she was floating on some kind of high she had _never_ experienced before, her immediate decision was to jump into his arms. Which, he clearly wasn't prepared for, because they stumbled to the floor rather carelessly but not before completely breaking the table in the centre of her office. But, who cared about the table? Helga certainly didn't, not at a time like this anyway.

Helga, who had landed on top of a very surprised Arnold, gained her bearings and, the moment their eyes met again, it _all_ started to come out. "FTI wasn't heat of the moment!" she declared next.

Arnold blinked, and looked a little overwhelmed for a second; before she saw his lips begin to curl into an adorable smile. So adorable, she figured she may as well keep going.

"Oh, and the little pink book was mine, and the parrot... the poem reciting parrot, oh, and the locket, the locket was mine too." she rambled, her mouth working far faster than her brain, which was currently pleading with her to either _shut up_ or to at least tell him everything a little less manically, "_And_ the answering machine tape, no wait, you never found that I took it back. But I _did_ crawl through the Boarding House vents and fall into your room wearing a campfire lass outfit. Oh and Arnold, I was Cecile, you know, the fake one and I'm really sorry about all of that but I just... _OH_, um, in sixth grade when I dumped that punch on you, I'm sorry but I heard Lila was going to ask you to dance and, well, I-"

"Helga." Arnold's voice suddenly stopped her, her chest heaving to catch up on the air she had neglected to inhale during her, uh, _confession_, "Could you please shut up?"

And, with that, Arnold pulled her closer and pressed his lips to hers once more.


	19. My Life

Helga sat cross legged in the middle of her office, staring at the broken pieces of wood that prior to two thirty the previous morning, had constituted a table. Cleaning the mess rather than simply staring at it would have proved far more functional, but as it were, she didn't really _want_ it to go. There was no hurry anyway, considering she didn't have any appointments until tomorrow. Except for Miss Angela Sanderson sometime very soon...

"Hi." said a little voice, one not quite as loud as usual but certainly audible enough to draw Helga from her thoughts, and look up toward her favourite patient. Helga couldn't help but notice that Angela was looking rather subdued today as she meandered her way into the room.

Helga frowned, "Are you okay?" she checked, after all, 'subdued' could very well have meant that things were not going so well.

Angela simply shrugged, looking very nonplussed, "Yeah, fine." she answered honestly, and then her eyes drifted down to where Helga was sitting on the floor and peered oddly at the wooden debris, "Your table is broken."

"Yeah." Helga grinned, looking incredibly pleased with herself as she stood from the floor and moved to the black couch, "It is."

Helga made herself comfortable and patted the empty space beside her, wordlessly inviting the younger girl to take a seat to begin their session.

"So, how has it been?" the tall blonde woman asked her, knowing that she need not specify Dean's name for Angela to understand exactly what she was asking.

Angela flopped herself down onto the couch in the spot beside Helga, a thoughtful expression on her face, "Scary." she eventually deduced, turning to look at her psychologist.

Helga nodded sympathetically, "Has he said anything?"

"No." she responded, shaking her head and causing a few wisps of dark hair to fall from her green headband, "He's just really weird around me. I think you're right, I think he's going to pretend it never happened."

Placing a supportive hand on the girl's shoulder, Helga smiled weakly, "Sometimes, boys do that."

Angela shrugged again, and Helga shifted her hand, "It doesn't matter." she told the older woman confidently, "I'm young, I can wait for him a while... a long while, probably."

"That's very mature of you." Helga pointed out immediately, wondering where this new level of assurance had suddenly sprung from.

One thing she was not expecting, was for Angela's sudden confidence to have been due to _Helga_ herself, at least, not until the black haired girl said, "Well, it worked for you."

Helga, obviously being absolutely stunned by the comment, exclaimed rather loudly, "Angela!" and looked at the girl in confusion, "How could you have possibly-"

"I've said it before..." Angela cut in, with a playful roll of her deep brown eyes, "...and I'll say it again. I'm the smartest kid you've ever met."

Helga raised an eyebrow at her, "That's not a good enough reason." she pointed out.

"Fine." Angela sighed, relenting far sooner than Helga had actually anticipated, "_Somebody_ was very tired yesterday morning..." and at that she shot Helga a very pointed look, "Your fault, I assume?"

Helga wondered, after a slightly over dramatic gasp, if maybe it would be best to _deny_ that allegation, "I..."

However, the girl hadn't needed more than the look on Helga's face to confirm her suspicions, and the broken table probably didn't help. As it were, Angela simply laughed at her psychologist's lame attempts to create an excuse, "Yep, definitely your fault." she said proudly, with an all-knowing smirk.

Helga simply huffed, and pouted, and tried to think of a new direction to take the conversation in. Until, Angela spoke up again...

"You know..." she began slowly, a teasing grin still covering her face, "Literally the _day_ after you showed up at school, he decided we should study Romeo and Juliet?" and she sniggered at that, clearly having been more than aware of his motivations at the time.

Tilting her head to the side, Helga slowly processed that information, and letting her heart perform a happy flutter, "And you didn't _tell_ me?" she sighed at the yoinger girl, who was _still_ sniggering.

"Helga." Angela said with a shake of her head, patting Helga's shoulder in mock support, "There are some things, that you just need to learn on your own."

Helga rolled her eyes and laughed, "Once again, may I remind you that I'm supposed to teach _you_ the lessons." she said, although she wasn't serious at all, she knew better than anyone that sometimes the adults needed the children to teach _them_ the lessons.

Angela shrugged with a grin, "Eh." she said, flipping her hand nonchalantly, "I see it more like a two-way street."

Smiling like a proud mother, Helga nodded, and she wondered how _anybody _could have ever missed this little girls brilliance, "I guess so." she conceded with a fake sigh of surrender, before her tone became far more serious, "You know Angela, you've taught me more than any adult _ever_ has... except maybe Dr Bliss."

"Well..." Angela responded softly, a shy little smile playing on her lips, "You've taught _me_ more than any adult ever has.

Ruffling her straight dark hair a little, Helga smiled ever brighter, "Thanks, little one." she said sincerely, and truly, all she could hope was that someday those around Angela Sanderson would realise what a special person she honestly was. Hopefully, her _parents_ would too.

"Hey..." Angela spoke up, her voice now filled with playfulness and her tone higher, making Helga raise an eyebrow in anticipation for whatever she may be about to say, "When you marry Mr Shortman, can I be the flower girl at the wedding?"

_Wedding_, now that was a word that made Helga choke on her own breath of air a little. "Angela, I'm not getting married." she quickly pointed out, despite feeling the urge to blush a little, considering she'd literally dreamed about it for the _thousandth_ time in her life again last night.

Angela rolled her eyes, giggling a little, "Sure, that's what you say _now_."

"No weddings are happening." Helga reiterated, "Seriously."

The younger girl simply shook her head, "Not _yet_." she continued to insist, a cheeky smile on her face, "But I want a deal to be drawn up, so I get to be a flower girl when it happens."

Helga sighed, knowing full and well that there would simply be no winning this argument until she agreed, "Sure." she promised, laughing a little, "Heck, you can be a bridesmaid."

"_Really?_" Angela responded quickly, seeking very serious confirmation of the deal, even jumping from her seat in great excitement.

"Sure kid." Helga promised, a little laugh escaping again as she considered her terms, "_But_, when you marry Dean, I get to be your bridesmaid too."

Angela's dark eyes shone, and she grinned, "Deal!"

Helga could only shake her head with a smile at the girl's enthusiasm. Sure, marrying Arnold was _the dream_, just as she was certain marrying Dean was of similar consequence to Angela, but Helga had lived through enough disappointing situations to know that happy endings didn't come around for everybody. Still, it certainly was wonderful to imagine.

The leather couch shifted as Angela took a seat again, "So, I heard you're having a session with the psycho." she mentioned with interest.

"The psycho?" Helga repeated, raising an eyebrow at the girl, despite being rather certain she knew who Angela was referring to.

"Yeah." Angela nodded, "Cedric... the twisted freak."

Helga bit back a laugh at the irony of nickname Angela had bestowed on the young blonde boy, "Twisted freak, hey?" she hummed thoughtfully.

"Yep, the kid is _nuts_." she all but assured Helga, "You know, one day he held another student hostage in the protest for better lunch meat?"

Letting out a laugh, Helga shook her head at the memories such antics brought back, "That doesn't surprise me." she quipped in response.

Angela frowned a little at her, "Why?" she questioned, "Cause he's certifiably insane?"

Helga shook her head, she hadn't _met_ him yet but she was fairly certain Cedric Stanton wasn't certifiably insane, just in need of a little reassurance. "No, because I went to school with his foster parents." she explained, "His foster father was just like that when _he_ was young."

"Sheesh." Angela muttered, raising an eyebrow at Helga, "Did you grow up with _everybody_ in this town?"

Hillwood was _definitely_ making her feel that way over the past month, "It certainly feels like it." she admitted to the young girl, actually it was almost as though her childhood had been following her around like a mischievous little ghost ever since she set foot back in her home town. However, she was no longer convinced that it had been such a bad thing after all...

Angela looked up at the ceiling, a very thoughtful expression on her face, "I wonder how many people from my class will still be around when I'm your age..." she pondered softly as her eyes traced the patterns on the roof.

"Who knows." Helga shrugged, having learnt recently that once can never truly predict their future, she felt it odd to speculate, after all, you were only likely to be proven wrong, "Maybe you won't be in Hillwood either."

"Yeah, I guess not." she agreed, "I mean, you almost _never_ came back."

Helga bit her lip a little, she hadn't thought about it recently but Angela was right, she _had_ almost all but decided years ago that she would never come back to this city. Imagining all the things she'd have missed out on, _Arnold_ especially and not to mention Angela herself, Helga felt she owed Dr Bliss a lifetime supply of gratitude for encouraging her to accept this position.

"Angela." she said very seriously, causing the young girl to tip her head to the side, moving her focus from the ceiling back to Helga, "No matter what, Dean or no Dean, Hillwood or no Hillwood, I'll always be here for you, okay?"

Angela shifted on the couch, sitting up a little, "Really?" she asked, "You mean that?"

Nodding in confirmation, Helga assured her, "I really mean that, whatever happens, you can always talk to me."

Angela blinked, and moved even farther forward, "Hey, maybe I _should_ move out of Hillwood." she said pensively, "I could go to California and then come back when I'm twenty four and then mayb-"

"Angela, our lives are _different_." Helga immediately interjected, not wishing the girl to get carried away with that particular line of thinking, "We're similar people sure, but you don't have to live out a carbon copy of my life."

Silence ensured for a while, until Angela nodded her head in understanding, "You're right." she accepted, "I mean, I already did something different to you anyway."

Helga smiled back at her, Angela Sanderson was going to be okay, she was sure of it, "Exactly, and I'm proud of you." and truly she was, "You just keep living your life for you, okay? And if he's smart enough to want to join you, then so be it."

Smiling at her advice, Angela slid off the couch and stood, "Um, I know you said things in my life don't need to be a carbon copy... " she began, clearly focussed on something a little different now, "But, what about Emma and Johnny?"

"_That_ may just be a long and frustrating task." Helga said with a sigh, and a slight smirk, "But keep at it, they're perfect for each other. At least, _my_ Emma and Johnny certainly are."

Angela nodded, great determination evident in her eyes, "Well, I think I'll start now then." she decided, in regards to the 'long and frustrating' task, before wrapping her arms around Helga's shoulders in a chaste hug and running for the door, "I'll see you next week!" she called out as she left.

Helga glanced up at the clock, their session time had come to an end, and not a minute _more_, it was precisely on the hour. Sighing, she shook her head, that girl was something else.


	20. Princess and the Geek

"Mr and Mrs Gammelthorpe are here with Cedric." Tina's voice announced into the receiver, and at her desk Helga grinned at the very thought. Never, _never ever_, would she get tired of hearing Rhonda being referred to as Mrs Gammelthorpe. It was just mind boggling. Especially to her, considering she left town back when the Princess went to great lengths to avoid Curly all together.

Suppressing another chuckling session over the irony, Helga responded with a level sounding, "Let them in." and placed the phone back onto the receiver, waiting patiently for their arrival.

Cedric Stanton, with his wild blonde locks, rushed into the office first, taking a bounding leap over the back of the leather couch and stretching himself out comfortably once he landed. Curly and Rhonda followed closely behind, hand in hand, and not batting an eyelash at their sons behaviour. Although, Helga honestly hadn't _expected_ them to, after all it was probably fairly standard stuff.

"Oh _my_, Helga darling!" Rhonda cooed at her as she entered, her hazel eyes sweeping over Helga's body, and then to her face, with great interest, "You look _fabulous_, so good to see you."

Curly tilted his head a little and nodded, "You sure have changed, Pataki." he confirmed, rather sedately considering the way he had been around the time Helga left. If Helga recalled correctly, and she was certain she did, the very last time she ever spoke to Thaddeus '_Curly_' Gammelthorpe he was sitting atop a very angry looking tiger. A tiger who, of course, was nowhere near the zoo where it was _supposed_ to be.

"It's good to see you two again." she smirked in response, before raising an eyebrow at Rhonda's coat, "Rhonda is that _faux_ fur?"

Rhonda giggled, "Oh absolutely." she happily confirmed, patting at the fur as she spoke, "I gave up real fur long ago, fashion or not, no animal deserves to be harmed for my vanity."

"I guess I'm not the only one who's changed then." Helga remarked, not that she was surprised, after all she'd always known the two of them would eventually bring out the best in each other.

Curly smirked at her comment, "I haven't pulled your fire alarm yet, so I guess you're right."

"Take a seat." she instructed, realising they had been standing for quite some time, and motioned toward the couch where their son had been putting a great deal of attention into getting the pillow positioning right.

Cedric, now realising that his parents had been instructed to move toward the couch he presently occupied, took to jumping up and down upon the soft leather and calling out, "Yeah, take a seat next to me! Next to me!" and finishing with a crazy cackle that Helga was entirely certain Curly must have taught him.

Rhonda frowned a little, "Cedric, dear, please stop bouncing on Helga's couch." she asked her foster son politely.

Cedric, who was _clearly_ very fond of his foster parents and it wasn't difficult to tell, immediately sought to adhere to this direction, but was unfortunately mid-bounce at the time. Helga winced a little as his attempt to stop jumping left him crashing to the ground. Curly made his way to the poor child and helped him up, scooping the young boy into his arms and taking him to the couch where Rhonda now sat.

"Alright, sister." Curly smiled at Helga, and he settled Cedric onto his lap, "Give Curly the run down."

Helga raised an eyebrow, _there_ was that little piece of the Curly she'd grown up with, she was glad to know that his 'uniqueness' hadn't entirely dissipated. Rhonda, in response, rolled her eyes playfully at him, but she was smiling.

"I wanted to discuss Cedric's more outlandish behaviours with you." Helga began, "I mean, overall he's a smart kid and he's got a good group of friends. However, the stunts like holding students hostage, well, they're a little disruptive."

Rhonda pursed her lips and cupped the little boys cheek, who was still sitting in Curly's lap, "Oh Ceddy." she said, "I _know_ better lunch meat is a noble cause, but there are petitions and student councils!"

Helga couldn't help but smile, at least in this case, she didn't foresee any troubles in resolving the issue efficiently. If only people like Rick and Dianne Sanderson could give their biological daughter even _half_ as much love as Rhonda and Curly gave their foster son, then she'd be happily out of a career.

"Honestly, Helga, he reminds me of, well... of _me_." Curly spoke up, bouncing his knees a little, much to Cedric's joy, "But I don't understand how, I mean, he's not our biological son."

Taking a moment to think the situation through, and assess the best way to handle the issue, Helga shifted forward a little and focussed her gaze on the young boy. "Cedric, how old are you?" she asked him softly.

"I'm seven." he informed her proudly, "Seven and two thirds."

Helga nodded, "Okay Cedric, do you remember when you were, say, five and one half?"

The boy nodded, but a frown had come across his face, "Yeah." he said unhappily, "I was in the big house."

Helga nodded again, so he knew she had completely understood, "What was the big house like?" she asked. Having worked with an orphanage during her doctorate, she was familiar with the stress it often placed on the poor children involved.

Cedric paused to think it over for a moment, "Lonely." he responded eventually, "Cause we didn't have mommy's and daddy's."

"Cedric, do you remember how long you lived in the big house for?" she asked next.

Scrunching up his face a little, deep in thought and maybe even counting, his eventual answer was, "Forever, I think."

Helga, holding back a giggle from the sweetly innocent boys previous answer, continued with her questions, "So, you don't ever remember a time when you didn't live in the big house?" and in response the young boy shook his head quite clearly.

"Alright..." she continued on, pursing her lips slightly, "Did you ever leave the big house, say for little vacations with other mommy's and daddy's?"

"A few times." the boy nodded, his scruffy blonde hair flopping around as he did so, "But they never kept me long."

Helga frowned a little, "How did that make you feel?"

He frowned right back at her, "Ummm... _bad_."

Once more, Helga nodded at the young boy, "What about now?" she asked him, "Do you like where you live now?"

Cedric's face broke into a beautiful grin, and he nodded enthusiastically, "Yes." he affirmed, "I love mommy Rhonda and daddy Thad."

"I'm glad. I think they would be nice parents." Helga smiled, "Do you think you'll live with them for a long time?"

Immediately, the boys smile dropped a little and he shook his head rather slowly. Rhonda, who along with Curly had been very silent during the entire discussion between Helga and Cedric, now gasped at his latest response.

"Oh Cedric, why ever not?" she exclaimed, clearly rather distressed by the thought of the young boy in question wishing to leave her care.

Helga nodded at the boy, encouraging him to explain, "Why do you think that, Cedric?"

"Cause I always get sent back to the big house." the young boy reasoned, with a downcast expression, as though he had accepted it to be his only fate.

Helga flicked her eyes up to meet Rhonda and Curly, who both looked upset and confused, "Cedric is just worried." she explained to them, "Worried you'll be like everybody else and send him back to the foster home eventually."

Curly raised an eyebrow, looking from his foster son and back to Helga, "So, that's why he's copying my behaviour after I tell him stories of our childhood?" he asked, seeking confirmation that he had correctly assessed the issue.

Nodding in confirmation, Helga added, "He just wants you to accept him."

Immediately, Rhonda lifted Cedric from Curly's lap and pulled him into a tight hug, "Oh my darling." she said sweetly, rocking him a little, "In two more months time you'll have lived with us for a whole year and then we can fill in the papers to keep you forever. We'll make sure you never go back to the big house, okay my baby?"

Cedric, still being squashed firmly in Rhonda's arms, looked from her and then over toward Curly. Prying the little boy from his mother's grasp for a moment, Curly shifted the blonde haired boy to face him, "Listen up kiddo, I'm your daddy and you're going to be my boy forever, how's that sound?"

"Can I be a Gammilthop!?" Cedric immediately asked, a little glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

Rhonda administered a quick kiss to his cheek, "Absolutely darling." she assured him, "As soon, as possible."

"You see, Cedric, your mommy and daddy love you and you can trust them." Helga spoke up again, directly addressing the young boy once more, "You can just be yourself, alright?"

Cedric nodded happily in understanding, and buried his head back into Rhonda's shirt. Rhonda, sniffled a little as she patted his back, "Oh Helga, you are simply marvellous at your job." she praised.

"Hmmm... yeah..." Curly said thoughtfully, his eyes roaming her office, "How'd you get this position anyway? What the heck _have_ you been doing since you moved?"

"Yes, yes." Rhonda nodded in agreement, "Tell us what you've been doing. I'm sure California was absolutely fabulous!"

Helga shrugged,"California was a nice place." she admitted honestly, after all, despite her family issues she'd enjoyed most of her time in the sunny state, "Uh, let's see, after high school I went to Stanford and studied psychology. I was offered the job here in Hillwood after graduating, and so I came back."

"Say, Helga..." Rhonda began mysteriously, raising an eyebrow at her, "Have you seen Arnold since you got back to Hillwood? I mean, surely you must have, he _does_ work at PS118..."

Curly tore his attention away from Cedric for a moment, now also watching Helga with great interest, "Yeah Helga, have you spoken to Arnold?"

Helga averted her gaze slightly, roaming her eyes across her office wall as she wondered how to answer that question. Yes, she had seen Arnold and _oh yes_ she had talked to him. In fact, last she _saw_ him he was on her office floor at four o'clock on Tuesday morning and last she had _talked_ to him, was on the phone yesterday at lunch when he had asked her to go to dinner with him tomorrow night. Instead of that, however, Helga stuck with, "Uh, yeah, I've seen him."

"I see, and..." Curly began thoughtfully.

Rhonda cut in immediately, clearly eager to say whatever had been buzzing around her mind since the question first left her lips, "The boy was just _so_ lost when you left." she insisted, and Helga felt her heart do a little flutter, knowing he had missed her so much it had apparently other people had noticed, "I personally couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it sooner."

Helga frowned slightly at that, wondering what exactly she was referring to, "Noticed what?"

"Well, that he was in love with you, of course!" Rhonda exclaimed, as though it had been _obvious_, "I mean, I prided myself on knowing _all_ the gossip, but I certainly didn't pick up on that one until you had been gone for quite a few months."

Mouth slightly agape, all Helga could respond with was, "What?"

Rhonda pursed her lips together and frowned, "I almost considered telling Phoebe to tell you." she revealed, "But, I thought better of it considering how you could never really stand him."

Helga was about to shoot Rhonda a rather incredulous look, but Curly simply beat her to it, "Oh darling, you didn't tell Helga about Arnold because you thought she couldn't _stand him_?" he questioned, "Au contraire, my sweet, I thought it was the other way around!"

Frowning, Rhonda shifted to face him direction, "But, Arnold was all mopey... and then he dated Lila for a split second..." she began, rattling off all her supposed evidence, "Then, after that, _all_ his girlfriends had blonde hair and blue eyes and, oh, he was the _worst_ commitment phobic."

Curly nodded at this, and cocked his head a little, "I guess you're tight." he said after thinking it over, apparently Rhonda had been entirely correct, "But, what about the spitballs and the crazy outbursts from Helga? Oh, and then _pet names_."

"Hey!" Helga cried out, feeling the need to defend her brilliant childhood idea of displaying her 'hatred' with nicknames, "They were _insults_!" she insisted.

Unfortunately, the comment only served to make Curly and Rhonda simply stare at her, silently, for a good few minutes. After which, Rhonda squealed like a child on Christmas morning, and Curly started chuckling at her.

"Well, take my Caprini gowns and call me poor, if this isn't just the _cutest _thing-" she began to exclaim, her voice so high-pitched Helga could hardly understand what she was even saying.

"Quiet, Princess." Helga warned, bringing a hand to her forehead, "You're giving me a headache."

Rhonda, apparently unfazed by Helga's pain, lifted a hand to her cheek, which subsequently stirred little Cedric who had previously been rather relaxed in her arms. "Oh, your children would just be _beautiful_."

Helga groaned, first Angela wanted a spot in their wedding and now Rhonda was imagining the genetic potential of their offspring, "Oh criminy, Rhonda, calm down." she shook her head, "I'm not having any football-headed children in the near future."

"Not in the near future, eh?" Curly grinned, "I notice you're not entirely ruling it out."

Helga rolled her eyes, taking a quick glance at the clock to see that their session time was quickly coming to an end, "I'm kicking you two out." she informed them with a slight smile.

They both sighed dramatically, and stood to leave... that is, until Helga's phone buzzed to life on her desk and lit up very clearly with the worlds '_Arnold calling...'_

"Helga!" Rhonda shrieked, pointing toward the phone, "My _gosh_, you two are _so_ together, aren't you?"

Helga simply sighed, and looked at her. Rhonda needed no further confirmation, Helga's lack of denial serving as evidence enough, "Alright, fine, we're leaving Helga." she said teasingly, "Cause I'm going _straight_ home to tell Nadine _all_ about this!"

Curly grinned back at her, "Hey, I might make a banner and put it across the highway bridge..." he declared with a little chuckle.

Absolutely not putting such a feat past him, Helga shook her head firmly, "No way, Curly" she warned him, "No way, no banners."

Cedric, however, had other ideas and as his parents headed for the door, he cried out jubilantly, "Banner!" and with that, the Gammelthorpe's were gone.

* * *

**A/N: **For those wondering, there is still 4 chapters to go. I'm struggling (major struggling) with the next chapter though so it may be a little while til it's up :/... sorry!


	21. Whatever You Like

A/N: The illusive 'writing-this-gave-me-headaches-of-frustration-and -lack-of-inspiration' chapter is finally here! Oh, and, um... **SURPRISE**! (you'll see why, just read)

* * *

Chez Paris _was_ different, and she definitely wasn't simply imagining it for the benefit of distraction this time, actually she hadn't focussed on it at all. She figured it out the very moment her black pump made contact with the pavement and Arnold offered her his hand, when her mind drifted to the touch of his lips against her fingers in front of the fountain at nine years old. It was clear, absolutely obvious, that the fountain was no longer there and all that stood between the two French restaurants was an open paved courtyard.

Helga felt the warmth of Arnold's fingers intertwine with her own and frowned at the scene before her, "They took away the fountain." she noted with a disappointed tone.

Arnold looked over toward her, his green eyes sweeping her face and noting her discontent, "They moved it." he said with a slight smile, as they headed for the front door of the restaurant, "I'll take you to the new spot one day, if you like."

"Alright" she responded with a giddy smile as the warmth of the restaurant hit her skin, "I would like that."

Emma, the waitress Helga recalled from the lunch date with Phoebe and Gerald, smiled brightly as they entered and she approached them with enthusiasm. "Hi Arnold." she greeted him with easy familiarity, "I saved you the good table, near the window."

"Hi Emma, you didn't need to do that." Arnold assured her with a shake of his head and a friendly smile, "But thank you."

Rolling her eyes at his politeness, she waved him off and set her attention on Helga, "I think I remember you, from the other day at lunch, with Arnold's friend... hmm, Mr Johanssen, is that right?" she asked politely, leaning over the small counter in the entry way to cross their name from the dinner reservations list.

Helga nodded, "That was me, you have a very good memory." she wondered quickly how Arnold and Emma knew each other, and figured it might be best to introduce herself in an effort to figure it out, "Uh, I'm Helga, by the way."

"Oh, nice to meet you Helga. I'm Emma..." she laughed a little and pointed toward her badge, realising that it was fairly obvious what her name might be, "My son is in Arnold's class at PS118."

Quickly, Helga turned to look in Arnold's direction, and he had a sly smile on his face, "Helga, this is Emma, Dean's mother." he motioned between them, "Emma, this is Helga, PS118's child psychologist."

Helga snapped her attention back toward the thin brunette waitress with tight curls pulled into a ponytail and her eyes widened with realisation, Dean had certainly inherited his looks from his mother. Emma beamed at her, "Oh wonderful, have you met my son?" she asked casually, motioning them over toward the free table by the window.

Slipping into her seat, Helga considered the question carefully, "Not personally..." she said truthfully, tapping a finger slightly against the wooden table top, "But I've heard a lot about him."

"I should tell him to go introduce himself, if you're not too busy of course." Emma said, handing them both menu's, "He's a great kid, perfect even, but I worry if his father's abandonment gets to him sometimes."

Casting a quick look across the table, Helga noted that Arnold raised an eyebrow to this, as though he was not previously fully aware of the situation, and Helga reasoned Dean probably didn't like to discuss it. Pursing her lips together, she looked back over toward Emma, "I'm never too busy for a student who wants to talk, I'll see to it that I introduce myself on Monday and if he ever needs to come see me, he's welcome to."

Emma shot her a relieved and grateful look, "Thank you so much." she said kindly, before drawing out her order paper and poising her pen, "Now, would you both like your usual drinks?"

Helga raised an eyebrow, Arnold nodded before looking over toward Helga for confirmation, and she nodded also. Emma smiled and made her way back toward the bar and Helga wondered how the small brunette had managed to become a human filing system.

"So, how _is_ Angela?" Arnold enquired the moment Emma had departed from hearing range.

Helga frowned a little in thought, trying to recall the last time she and Arnold had discussed the young girl, and what had occurred since then. She glanced slowly in Emma's direction, and then back toward Arnold, "She told him." she revealed, biting her lip a little.

Arnold blinked and looked up intently, "She did?" he asked in surprise, letting the menu slide back onto the table for the time being.

Reaching for her own menu, Helga nodded and flicked her eyes over the dish names, "Yeah." she confirmed, darting her eyes away to concentrate on the French wording as she continued, "He's, uh, he's pretending it was heat of the moment, I guess... he hasn't spoken to her about it."

Warmth engulfed her fingers and slid up her hand, her skin tingling where his hand met hers and Helga's eyes lingered on their intertwined hands for a moment before she raised her gaze to look him in the eyes.

"Sorry." Arnold said sincerely, his expression a slight frown as he ran his thumb across her knuckles, "I'm sorry about that."

Helga shrugged her shoulders as nonchalantly as possible, "There's nothing to apologise for." she insisted, and truly there really wasn't, but she couldn't deny how good it felt to hear.

"I was scared, at the time." he continued, letting out a short sigh and giving her hand a squeeze, "Dean's probably scared too."

Eyes falling back to where his hand covered hers, she had to ask, "Of what?"

Arnold dropped her hand slowly, leaning back into his chair and picking up the detailed menu once more, "Of something that _no_ ten year old boy has ever stopped to consider before..." his eyes met hers again, "Love, _real_ grown-up _serious_ love."

Her heart beat a little faster, she had just been a kid, Angela _was_ still a kid, but maybe Arnold had a point, maybe the love she and Angela felt as ten year olds was more than just a childhood obsession, maybe it was proper affection well before others could grasp the concept.

"Maybe he honestly just doesn't like her." Helga suggested, and despite how much she might wish it not to be the case, nobody could deny the possibility.

Sparkling green eyes met hers and, apparently, Arnold begged to differ with her theory, he smiled softly, "Sure." he conceded coolly, "He _thinks_ he doesn't."

Helga rolled her eyes, and bit her bottom lip to stop the ridiculous smile threatening to spread across her face as she bit back, "How can you be so optimistic about everything?" with playful sarcasm.

"I'm not _always _optimistic." Arnold responded with a sigh, but there was still a smile on his face, "A lot had changed in twelve years, you know."

Emma arrived at that moment, placing their drinks in front of them and stepping back to grasp her pen and paper, "Okay, are you ready to order?" she asked cheerfully as she glanced between them.

Quickly skimming the menu, and realising she'd been far too distracted by Arnold's touch against her fingers to have recalled details on any of the dishes she'd looked at, Helga went for the safe option, "I'll have the Ratatouille, please." she said, after all, it was better than risking a plate of eggs and brains.

Emma nodded and scribbled her order onto the bright white paper, and then looked up at Arnold with a smirk, "And for you, the least French item on the menu?" she teased, already jotting it down as though she was entirely certain that would be the correct answer.

"I don't know why it's on your menu if you complain about it." Arnold rolled his eyes with a laugh, "Tell Jacques I say hi."

Shaking her head, Emma retrieved the menus from the table, "Oh, he'll know it's you without me saying _anything_." she warned, and made her way across the room again, to place the menus back into their correct storage location.

"I'm sorry, did you just do something to deliberately... _anger_ somebody?" Helga teased, raising an eyebrow at him and resting her elbows against the table top.

Arnold smiled softly at her, "Well, somebody had to start doing it once you were gone." he shrugged, but watched her carefully with his eyes.

Blinking, Helga sat up a little straighter, "Tell me about it..." she said slowly, "... what's been happening since I left?"

"Hmm... I guess the biggest thing to happen to the town as a whole was the new mayor..." Arnold began, pursing his lips slightly as he tried to recollect the prior twelve years, "Gerald and I stopped him building the Tina Park monument, like I said, but he did eventually make one by the highway. He was in power for about two years before Monkeyman ran against him..."

Helga spluttered a little and leaned forward, "_Monkeyman_?" she asked incredulously, "Monkeyman was our mayor?"

"Still is." Arnold corrected her, "Mayor Baker, is technically his _real_ name, but most people still call him Monkeyman"

Quirking her lips slightly, "Wow..." Helga uttered, she felt like she'd missed a lifetime of change, "What else?"

Arnold took a breath and his expression was thoughtful again, "Sid and Rhonda dated for a few months around that same time, and not long after it ended he and Gerald got into a huge fight. They haven't talked since." he revealed, his nose scrunching a little as he concentrated and Helga couldn't help but notice how cute it was, "I think the whole thing had something to do with Phoebe, actually."

Raising and eyebrow at him, she questioned, "You don't know for sure?" because it seemed odd for Arnold to be so uncertain about anything in regards to Gerald's life, considering how close they had always been.

"No, I don't." Arnold said with a shake of his head, and his face dropped slightly, "I really should, considering Gerald's my best friend, but I was fairly reclusive at the time it all happened."

Helga startled and a little surge of concern shot its way through her chest, alarmed at the very thought of Arnold shutting himself off from the world, it didn't seem possible, "You? Reclusive?" she double checked, not quite understanding what would cause such a thing.

Arnold notably grimaced in response, and Helga immediately regretted even daring to push the subject, but he nodded and began to explain nonetheless, "Grandpa got a call on April the seventh, when I was fourteen, to say that authorities in San Lorenzo had located my parents bodies."

"Arnold, I'm... I'm so sorry." Helga breathed cautiously, her eyes taking in the sadness across his face and the way his eyes stayed focussed on his hands in his lap.

Sparing her a momentary glance, and a tight smile, before returning attention to his lap, Arnold let out a heavy breath, "I wouldn't leave my room for weeks... it was hard to... _accept _that they weren't coming home." and Helga shifted her hand slightly on the table, causing him to lift one of his own hands to take hold of it. "Actually, all I really wanted was for _you_ to show up on my doorstep and tell me to 'snap out of it, Football Head' and drag me off to play baseball, or _something_." he said sincerely, holding her hand tighter.

Helga gaped at him, "Surely you didn't want me to intrude your mourning by _insulting_ the shape of your head and demanding you play a sports match?" she insisted with disbelief.

"I guess I'm not so sure about the baseball game." he admitted with a smile that, for the first time since mentioning the subject, seemed genuine, "but I would have done anything to hear you insult the shape of my head." he rolled their hands over lazily against the table, shifting his grip a little, "I almost asked Phoebe for your number, actually, but I chickened out."

Tilting her head slightly, she caught his eyes, "You don't... hate the name Football Head?" she asked with amazement, after all, it was considered an _insult_, no matter how much she'd never truly meant it... nor how much she honestly adored it.

Arnold's eyes sparkled as he smiled at her, "No." he said firmly to her question, leaving absolutely no doubt, "Not when you say it."

Inwardly, her heart was doing flip flops and her mind was squealing and suffering a happiness meltdown, but on the outside she simply beamed and focussed on the feeling of his hand around hers on the table top, "Okay, _Football Head_." she shot back playfully.

Stroking along her fingers again, Arnold continued to smile at her, "I know I said this already..." he mumbled sightly as he watched the movements of their fingers, his curling tighter around hers, "but I really missed you, Helga."

Helga bit her bottom lip, raking her teeth along it softly, "I missed you too." she admitted, although it barely came out as more than a whisper.

"So, ah, after Sid and Rhonda..." Arnold cleared his throat, thankfully alleviating the tension, despite how comfortable the brief silence between them had been, "Curly totally backed off, decided to move on from her and accept reality and Rhonda was _miserable_. It was a while before she admitted she missed him, and he wasn't convinced at first, but they worked it out in time and they've been together ever since."

Helga blinked, "Princess and Curly have been together _that_ long?" she asked, despite clearly knowing the answer, so it was practically unnecessary, but it made her feel better to ask it anyhow. Confirmation was always a good thing to seek, after all.

Arnold nodded and dropped her hand as he noticed Emma approaching with their food from across the room, "You'll have to tell me about your session with them yesterday." he said before she arrived at their table.

"Enjoy!" Emma encouraged with a smile as she approached their seats and placed the plates down in front of them on the table, straightening the tablecloth slightly once everything was in place, "I'll be around if you need me, just make eye contact."

"Thanks Emma." Arnold said politely as she left once more, and they both turned their attentions to their plates of food.

Silence befell the table as they both ate their meals, and Helga felt much better for having the empty space in her stomach decrease with the influx of delicious food. Later, with both of their plates over halfway eaten, Helga slowed her eating and looked over in Arnold's direction once more, beginning to elaborate on her session with the Gammelthorpe's as requested, "I was impressed with Curly and Rhonda with Cedric." she said honestly, "They're good parents."

Arnold finished his mouthful and nodded at her, "You know, I always thought they would be." he mused thoughtfully, clearly having seen them various times at PS118 with their young foster son.

"They're good for each other, and good for Cedric." Helga concluded, taking a quick sip of her drink and smiling, "I'm happy for them."

Smiling back, Arnold shot her an amused look, "I bet Rhonda tried to catch you up on all the gossip." he predicted knowingly, after all, not even Curly and a child could curb the Gossip Queen's tendencies for chatter.

Helga thought back on her conversation with Rhonda, and surprisingly realised she hadn't shared much news at all, "Not really..." she recalled, "Although, she did give me a detailed run down of your romantic history."

She had intended it to be a passing comment, but the moment the words left her lips, Arnold choked slightly on his food and dropped his fork with a clatter, completely startling Helga with his panicked response. "Look, Helga, I don't know exactly what Rhonda told you..." he began with a nervous tone, "but I'm sure she made it clear that I'm, uh, well I'm not known for staying around for long..."

Glancing down at her food, and resting her cutlery against her plate before letting herself face him again, Helga nodded slowly, suddenly nervous about where the conversation may lead.

"I-I want you to know..." Arnold continued, his voice wavering slightly and his face looking troubled, "that _this _is different, and you might not believe me, but it is... it's _you..."_

Helga bit her lip hard, and blinked her eyes fast to hold back the tingling sensation as she attempted to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, "I wasn't judging you, Arnold." she informed him honestly, "I'm not exactly the role model for commitment myself."

Arnold raised an eyebrow at her comments, and took a short breath before continuing, "Things never worked out with previous boyfriends?" he asked carefully, as though he wasn't certain if he was treading on sensitive ground.

Shaking her head, and letting out a short huff of air, Helga considered how exactly to properly describe her dating history, "I wouldn't say I've ever had a 'boyfriend'..." she admitted, almost musing to herself in regards to the proper terminology, "Just 'lovers', I suppose is the right word, never anything official."

Across the table, Arnold grabbed for his fork again, using it to idly push food around his plate for a moment before making eye contact with her, "What about us?" he asked, and Helga couldn't quite tell if he was nervous or horrified, "What are _we_?"

"We are..." Helga began, pausing slightly to think it through, to judge what the best answer might be and eventually she decided upon, "Whatever you want us to be." she immediately grimaced to herself slightly for passing the reigns to him and not being upfront. However, the nightly wedding dreams and the fact that she'd practically already named their children, was probably something better kept to herself, and so she really couldn't trust herself to speak.

Arnold's eyes flicked up from his plate, "I want..." he began, and then paused for a moment to push the food around a little more, all the while Helga was struggling to breathe, "I want you to be my girlfriend." and he looked up and bit his lip nervously, "I want to call you every day, I want to tell everybody about you and I want you to stay the night with me, and even one day, consider moving in with me."

Silence engulfed them quickly after Arnold stopped speaking, and Helga tried to make herself talk but no words were readily available, her brain space was swamped with commands not to cry, or scream, or faint. Arnold shifted in his seat after the silence had been long extended, and his eyes flicked back down to the table, "What do _you_ want?" he encouraged.

Helga blinked, and the sound of his nervous question pulled her back from her wordless state of bliss, "I want everything you just said." she responded, and it _was_ definitely embarrassingly high pitched and excitable, but she couldn't have cared less, "It sounds perfect."

Arnold smiled at her, and then glanced back down at his plate, "I think we should finish this food..." he suggested softly, motioning between their two meals, which had been largely forgetten, other than for pushing food around uselessly, for the previous few minutes of conversation, "and then go for walk around the park?"

Helga nodded, "That sounds perfect too." she agreed happily, her fork poised ready to finish off her meal.


	22. Helga's Locket

Helga grated her lip between her teeth softly, tucking her legs underneath herself on the soft couch in her apartment. Slowly, her eyes flickered over the words she had written years beforehand. _'To know, that no matter how much it hurt, she could never leave herself behind in pursuit of a man who would never love her.' _A heavy lock of wavy blonde hair fell across her eyes as she flipped from page eighty six, to page eighty seven. Before she could move to tuck the stray blonde curl behind her ear, the doorbell sounded loudly down the hallway.

Placing her worn copy of One First Last Kiss down onto the cushions, Helga headed for her ridiculously ornate front door, absolute overkill in the design process to be sure. To her surprise, the person standing on the other side of the mahogany was her best friend, absolutely beaming up at her.

"Pheebs?" Helga greeted her uncertainly, tilting her head to the side and taking in the enthusiastic expression etched across her best friends face. "I didn't know you intended to come over, I-"

Phoebe shook her head and began to explain, "I apologise for my impromptu visit, Helga, but I have located something of importance." she said sincerely.

Helga raised a questioning eyebrow, her friend was not one for unannounced visits, so she could only assume it was something that was making Phoebe impatient, or nervous, or both. "Found something?"

Nodding, her best friend motioned in the direction of the inside of her apartment, "May I come in?" she asked politely.

"Oh, of course." Helga assured her, stepping back from the entryway and gesturing for Phoebe to make her way inside. She made her way over toward the couch Helga had just been curled up upon and took a seat, her eyes drifting over toward the worn novel resting atop the decorative cushions.

Flipping the pages over between her fingers, Phoebe smiled and looked over at Helga, who had just settled herself to Phoebe's side, "Doing some light reading?"

"I suppose so." Helga said, shuffling on the couch to resume her comfortable position, legs tucked tightly underneath tall frame, "It ruins the story when you know the ending, though."

Phoebe smirked a little, "Or when you _wrote_ the ending." she pointed out.

Nodding, Helga eyed the book and its dog-eared pages, wondering how she ever achieved such success with it in the first place. "That too." she laughed.

"Helga, may I ask you why you wrote such a melancholy ending?" Phoebe questioned, her eyes now raking over the beginning of the last chapter, her lips pursed as she reinspected the words.

Helga relaxed into her comfortable lounge cushions, tucking the stray lock of blonde wavy hair behind her ear, "It's a story about unrequited love, Pheebs." she reminded her friend, who was still frowning at the very last pages of the story, "They don't _have_ happy endings."

The book was placed down onto the couch again, and Phoebe shifted to face Helga directly, "Perhaps it's time to produce a sequel." she said suggestively, raising an eyebrow.

"It's not a story about Arnold." Helga defended quickly, feeling a stern frown spread across her features. After all, it had been based on real life experiences, in California...

Phoebe, always able to pick her best friends thoughts apart, spoke up, "No, of course, it's a story about the collective virtues and experiences of each and every love interest from college." she stated knowingly, pausing for a moment before elaborating, "Combined into one, out of reach, fantasy."

Glancing at the book, Helga knew where Phoebe was trying to take the conversation, and she understood that her best friend was right. "An out of reach fantasy that I likened to Arnold..." she muttered in acceptance, after all, there was no point in denying it.

"You never loved any of those men." Phoebe said bluntly, raising her interrogation another notch, and Helga could at least be glad her best friend had held off this type of emotional inquest for so many years. Truly, they had never discussed the book, not in content nor inspiration, in a thorough manner at all since the moment it had gone to print. In fact, not even when Helga had taken Phoebe to the award dinner for its accomplishments in New York, did her best friend try to pry about its connotations.

Helga raised an eyebrow, wondering if she was pinpointing Phoebe's purpose correctly, "No, I didn't." she confirmed. Not that such a thing needed confirmation, Helga had _never_ even bothered to pretend she had felt significant affection for the men she had seen during college.

"So, how else could you have turned your experiences with them into the '_most heartbreaking love story of the year_'," she quoted the article printed at the time of receiving the award, "...without drawing inspiration from the feelings you held for Arnold?"

Smiling weakly at the analysis, Helga scrunched her nose a little, "How sad is that," she almost laughed at herself, feeling a little pathetic, "I practically re-wrote my entire life as though Arnold had been in it."

Phoebe shot her a firm look, "Helga, if it weren't for Arnold you may never have written an inspired word in your _life_..." she argued, tapping a finger against the novels outer cover, "and possibly would not have become so interested in the psychology profession in the first place."

"And that's supposed to make me feel less like a basketcase?" Helga wondered, raising an eyebrow at her best friend. She knew Phoebe wasn't trying to insinuate she was nothing _without _Arnold, nor did she really believe Phoebe was suggesting him to be the only important thing in her life, but she was curious as to why Phoebe was choosing now to demonstrate his prominence.

Her best friend laughed slightly, "No, it's supposed to make you stop trying to label yourself and just accept that he's good for you." she pointed out.

Helga pursed her lips slightly, "Alright, point taken." she said with a nod, "Time for a topic change? What was the important thing you came over to show me?"

Phoebe took a short breath, glancing at her handbag, then up again to meet Helga's eyes, "It would not be a topic change at all, Helga." she revealed softly.

_Oh_, now Helga clearly understood the motivation behind Phoebe's impassioned Arnold discussion, because apparently she had come bearing an Arnold-related object. Not that knowing of the reason for Phoebe's arrival did anything to relieve Helga's concern over what the item itself might be.

Slowly, Phoebe moved to reach down into her large black handbag, which was in reality more like a briefcase, and her hand fished around inside, searching for the important item. Helga's eyes widened as Phoebe's hand lifted, bringing with it a sparkling gold chain that Helga would recognize _absolutely anywhere_.

Helga gasped as Phoebe tugged at the length of the chain, revealing the heart shaped locket swinging from the links, and lay it flat on her palms. Extending her arm, Phoebe held it out toward Helga, who felt frozen, and could do no more than to stare and utter a whispered, "I told you to destroy it."

Phoebe looked guilty, and paused for a great deal of time before attempting to explain, "I know..." she said apologetically, flipping the frame over in her hands to reveal the picture of an eleven year old Arnold, the one that had been there for the past thirteen years. "I'm sorry, I couldn't do it." she admitted, still holding the locket out for Helga to take.

Soft sounds of Phoebe's uncomfortable shifting filled the room entirely, and Helga took vague notice of them, as her eyes roved over the chain and pendant she had worn around her neck during her childhood.

"Please speak..." Phoebe urged her after the silence become too much, "Are you mad?"

Her hand moved at a maddeningly slow pace to grasp for the locket, and once it was safely transferred from Phoebe's hands to her own, Helga's fingers traced the heart shape, and the little chip in the bottom left hand corner she knew so well. "_Why?_" she whispered softly in Phoebe's direction, her eyes only glancing up quickly, before returning to their exploration.

"Why...?" Phoebe repeated with confusion, clearly not certain as to what exactly the question was in reference to.

Helga frowned and looked at her best friend curiously, "Why couldn't you do it?"

Phoebe's hands twisted restlessly in her lap, "Maybe it sounds overly sentimental, but I _tried_ to destroy it Helga, I truly did, but it felt like... like destroying _you_."

Her heart skipping a few beats, for all sorts of reasons, including the feel of the cool golden surfaces of her once most prized possession, but mainly because of her best friends words, Helga smiled softly. "Are you sure you're not the poet, Pheebs?" she joked, trying to ease the temptation to sniffle a little.

"Certainly not, but I do fear you've had a strong influence on my romantic sensibilities." Phoebe giggled in return.

Helga bit her lip, and held the golden heart tightly in her hand, as she wrapped her arms snugly around her best friends shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. Phoebe responded immediately, slinking her own arms around Helga's back and rocking them slightly.

After a while, Phoebe pulled away, and when her eyes drifted down toward the novel again, she cleared her throat and looked toward Helga curiously. "Uh, Helga..." she began hesitantly, "are you _really_ that flexible?"

Helga tilted her head slightly and shot her a questioning glance, "Huh?"

"Page ninety four..." she explained, pointing directly at the copy of One First Last Kiss.

It was with great difficulty, that Helga managed not to choke on her own tongue the very moment Phoebe's words met her ears, although it took a while to get her coughing under control. "Oh good lord." she groaned, shooting Phoebe a playful glare, "I wish you never read that book!"

Phoebe grinned a little, "Come on Helga." she encouraged, "Is that scene... real?"

Aware that Phoebe could be quite coercive when in want of answers, the very reason she suggested her friend take up law if the medical field ever disillusioned her, Helga relented, "Yes, it's real."

Immediately, Phoebe was reduced to a fit of giggles, apparently finding her friends, uh, _talents_, to be rather amusing. "I'm sure..." she managed to breathe out, "that Arnold appreciates your... skills..." and her face took on a smug, knowing expression.

"Phoebe!" Helga admonished, startled a little by the twist the conversation had taken, not to mention that little, propitious Phoebe had dared to say such a thing. Although, Helga didn't really have to wonder what, or rather _who_, had influenced Phoebe's more amorous thought patterns.

Phoebe simply giggled more at the reaction, which made Helga realise her best friend believed her to have confirmed it. "He, um, wouldn't know..." she revealed, somewhat awkwardly. It was always best not to engage in _thinking_ about the fact either, because Helga was not known for her patience in that regard, and she could hardly keep the fantasies at bay.

The giggles ceased abruptly, and Phoebe looked toward her peculiarly, "Really?" she said as though she could hardly believe it.

Helga frowned, "It's only been two weeks..."

"True, however, you do tend to prefer expressing yourself physically." Phoebe noted, rather correctly.

Helga sighed, "I do just as well with words." she replied, although she knew that wasn't the _point_.

Phoebe raised an eyebrow, "Not including the time you communicated your class schedule with your tongue, rather than carry out a verbal interaction... you know, page-"

"I _know_ what page." Helga cut her off, a slight edge to her voice that Phoebe immediately noted. Arnold _was not _the guys from college, the rendezvous described in her book, he was something she was terrified to loose and she wasn't willing to do anything until he made the move. "Honestly, no more reading that book." she said, a little lighter with her voice this time.

Phoebe's face softened, "You're not a bad person, Helga, you know that right?" she said sincerely, sending a little jolt through Helga's heart, "You _tried_ to love without Arnold, and there's nothing wrong with what you did in here." she clasped the book in her hands and waved it before Helga's face, to prove her point.

Firstly, she thought to disagree, but Phoebe looked at her with the utmost honesty, and Helga had to concede that it was time to agree with her best friend. Nodding, she wrapped Phoebe into another tight hug, "Thanks Pheebs." she said, letting the swell of happiness rise in her chest, "Thank you."

Pulling back slightly, Helga lifted the gold chain from her lap, and placed it gently around her neck. She wasn't _just_ her childhood, or _just_ her college days, or _just _her mistakes, she was all of them mixed in with the good stuff. She had a right to live her life, and be proud, and she could live it with Arnold beside her.

* * *

A/N: OK, so two chapters left! They will be a 'double epilogue', that occurs two months after the events of this above chapter. I cannot believe we're almost at the end!


	23. Epilogue Part 1: Hallways

**Please note the time jump here**. Two months have passed since the last chapter (meaning Helga has been working at PS118 for three months now).

* * *

Helga bit at her bottom lip slightly as her fingers raked through the comprehensive document that was Thaddeus Gammelthorpe's elementary school record. Wartz had been incredibly enthusiastic to display his meticulous note-keeping abilities, and she had only just escaped his clutches after suffering through a hour-long 'guided tour' of Curly's file. _General displays of delinquency, restless antisocial behaviours, reckless disregard of school policy_ seemed to be the general theme of the report, but Helga wasn't overly concerned, she'd already developed a strong counter statement.

Never mind that she was a _child psychologist_, somehow Curly Gammelthorpe had used his surprisingly charming sweet-talk to convince her to defend his case for Cedric's adoption. The process has gone well overall, but Child Services were ruthless in their investigation and had demanded a professional psychological evaluation in evidence that he had matured from his days of 'general delinquency' and such. Considering what a sap she'd become these days, Helga had found herself defenseless at any attempt to decline when faced with Curly's charm, Rhonda's puppy dog eyes and little Cedric's adorably hopeful smile. Besides, she was strongly convinced Child Services would be making a grave mistake to _not_ allow the Gammelthorpe's full legal custody, and she was fairly certain they were keenly aware of that.

Sidestepping the two first graders bolting down the hallway, Helga continued to leaf through the worn pages, until she found the end of Curly's document and her eyes settled on the one beneath. _Her own_ elementary school record. Pulling it to the top of her stack, Helga's eyes inspected the attached school picture, her younger, angrier looking face scowling back from the glossy print, two stiff pigtails and a bright pink bow atop her head. Her gaze lingered on the bold red writing scribbled along the very top of the pages, _confrontational, argumentative, sarcastic_, it warned. Helga felt a little smile grace her lips at just how far she had come since her elementary school days.

Her hands settled upon the bottom of the page, poised to flip to the next record, when a sudden impact to her right hip sent her stumbling backward a little. Wobbling slightly in her tall black heels, Helga placed a hand upon a nearby set of lockers to steady herself and looked around for whatever, or whoever, had run into her.

"Sorry, Doctor Pataki." said an apologetic, and familiar voice, a young boy with bright blue eyes gazing up at her, "I didn't mean to run into you."

Helga smiled and readjusted the stack of files that had almost been bumped from her arms, "That's fine Dean... are you in a hurry to get somewhere?"

Dean, whom she had met with three times over the past two months, blushed slightly and shuffled his feet against the corridor floor. "Um, yeah, kind of." he murmured, his eyes darting in what Helga gathered to be either nerves or excitement, "Sorry, again."

"It's fine, kiddo." she assured him, raising an eyebrow and shooting him a firm look, one he knew all too well in situations like these. "What did we talk about last month? You don't need to be so sorry for everything."

Dean looked at her thoughtfully, and appeared to be considering the situation and his response. His habit of blaming everything on himself, most of all his father's sudden abandonment, had been a difficult one to break. Helga was certain, however, that things were improving. After another moment, he nodded up at her in understanding, "Right." he agreed, with a pleasing note of confidence. "It was just an accident.

Helga grinned proudly and ruffled his thick, curly hair a little, "Exactly, not your fault at all." she confirmed. "Now, you'd better get going to do whatever that super important mission you're on is?" she suggested with a hint of questioning.

"Um, yeah, thanks... bye Doctor Pataki!" he responded in an evident rush, the tinge of pink returning to his cheeks as he hurried off down the hallway. Helga tilted her head and watched him round the corner with great interest, pondering as t what he could possibly be running off to do.

However, curiosity or not, speculating over Dean's afternoon activities was not an entirely productive task, nor was it her job to hypothesize about her patients. Keeping that in mind, Helga returned her attentions to the reports bundled in her grasp, and shifted them once more to sift through the pages. She'd successfully flipped over to the second page of her own personal school file when the sounds of a collision and text books hitting the floor echoed from around the corner. Snapping her head up from the documents once more, she walked carefully down the corridor and peered around the corner.

Groaning at their sudden impact, the two students currently sprawled on the hallway floor stirred a little, and the moment Helga identified _who_ they were, she thought it best not to intervene. Slipping behind a nearby row of lockers, she watched on as Dean awkwardly clambered to his feet and offered a hand to Angela. Helga was pleased to note, that with a slightly nervous smile, Angela accepted his help and took hold of his hand.

Once on her feet, Angela straightened out her sweater, pulling at her long, green sleeves in obvious anxiousness, and mumbled something to Dean that Helga could not quite hear from her position. Gesturing slightly as she spoke, the dark haired girl continued to explain something and, once finished, promptly glanced at the floor with a bashful expression. Dean, in response, nodded happily at whatever she had said and his following words caused Angela to look up at him with evident surprise. A slight smile crossed her lips, and Helga tried desperately to pick up what was being said, but to no avail.

Angela and Dean had apparently just begun to realise they had never let go of each others hands, when Helga heard footsteps approaching from around the corner. Not wishing for anything to ruin the moment between her two favorite children, Helga turned to warn off whoever was on their way past, when she realised it was Arnold. His studious expression, which had been directed at the holiday closure date timetable held in his hands, turned to one of shock and confusion when Helga seized his arm and tugged him behind the lockers.

"Woah..." he exclaimed, blinking to adjust to the new surroundings, as he tumbled into the small space beside her, "Helga? What's going o-"

Helga shook her head slightly, placing her hand firmly across his mouth and muffling the rest of his question. "Look." she whispered softly, gesturing down the hallway in the direction of Angela and Dean.

Arnold's eyes shifted slowly, his gaze meandering to the spot where Angela and Dean stood, and before long his eyes widened comically and Helga wondered what he found so shocking. Curious, Helga turned around to look at the two kids again, to find something she absolutely had not been expecting. Dean, who was now tightly holding on to both of Angela's hands, leaned forward slightly and shyly pressed a kiss to Angela's lips. Helga took a sharp intake of breath and turned suddenly to stare at Arnold in disbelief, before shifting her eyes back to the kiss. Once the reality of the situation had fully taken hold, she bit down on her lip to contain the overwhelming urge to squeal, or rush out to hug the both of them. Instead, she settled for clutching at Arnold's hand in excitement, to which he responded by placing a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Wow..." he muttered a few seconds later, once his lips had left her cheek, and his breath was warm and close to her ear, "I didn't expect..."

Helga blinked and felt her body do that _fuzzy _thing, that odd little feeling that made her warm and comfortable, one of those common emotional reactions that she had become pleasantly familiar with over the past two months. It was somewhat like the overwhelming need to melt into poetic monologue, except it made her feel _safe_ rather than vulnerable. "I'm as surprised as you are..." she said slowly, forcing her attention back to his comment, and the unfolding scene in the hallway. It _was_ entirely a mystery to her, really, Dean had never given any indication of romantic feelings, nor for Angela nor anybody else. She supposed, in all fairness, she had never really asked. Angela, on the other hand, had she any inkling would certainly have brought something like this up during a session, and so Helga was confident the young girl would be just as surprised as anybody else.

Arnold seemed to read her mind, "Well then, I suppose that means Angela is pretty surprised, too." he concluded, this time pressing a kiss just behind her ear.

Humming a little on the inside, Helga watched as Dean and Angela eyed each other shyly with flushes faces and intertwined hands in the hallway, now having broken away from their kiss. "Probably..." Helga agreed, "but I'm sure it will wear off soon and she'll be frantically fantasizing about life as Mrs Angela..." she paused, and turned to look at Arnold, "wait, what _is_ Dean's last name?"

"You don't know his last name?" Arnold questioned her in response, clearly confused. His confusion was justified, she supposed, seeing as she had freedom to access his education documents, and thus discover his last name, at any time she so chose.

"No." she said with a shrug, watching Dean and Angela disappear down the hallway and toward the exit of PS118 from the corner of her eye, "I don't know... and I don't think Angela would know either."

Arnold looked even further confused, "You don't think _Angela, _of all people, would know his last name?" he wondered, "Why would you think that?"

Helga smiled knowingly, "Oh, just a feeling." she informed him in a coy tone, "Now, what is it?"

Arnold stepped out from behind the lockers and tugged at her hand, motioning with his other hand down the corridor. Helga smiled and followed after him, falling in rhythm with his steps as they too made their way to the front doors. "Flanagan." he said after a few steps, "Dean Flanagan."

Raising an eyebrow, and feeling her stride slow a little, she spluttered out a "_What_?" followed by an equally surprised, "Dean is Irish?". Surely, if he was, she would have picked that up during their sessions at some point.

Arnold grinned at her reaction and shook his head slightly, "No, well, not really... his father is." he took a few moments to muse over that information beforfe adding, "That's where he went when he left them, back to Ireland.. I think..."

"Angela Flanagan..." Helga said slowly, testing the name out as though it were on trial, "Hmm, I like it."

Chuckling a little at her enthusiasm, Arnold gave her hand another tight squeeze and asked, "Did _you_ do that?" quickly adding, "Back when we were in elementary school... try out my last name?"

Helga felt a little warmth spread to her face, he was becoming entirely too alert to her comments and knowledge in regard to Angela, and thus _where_ her foresight was coming from. It was certainly taking some getting used to, not that she was willing to admit that out loud. "Well, not exactly, no." she responded honestly, shooting him a smile, "I sort of had my heart set on Arnold Pataki, really..."

"Oh _really_..." he chortled as they stepped outside of the bright doors and into the cool December air, heading for the staff carpark, "At what, the threat of Ol' Betsey if I didn't comply?"

Scoffing loudly, Helga shook her head with great mock offense, "Please, like you would have _ever_ stood up to me anyway." she countered knowingly.

Arnold dropped her hand and directed a smoldering look at her, making her toes curl and her stomach tingle. "Just you wait and see, Miss Pataki." he warned her playfully, "Just you wait and see." and with that, he hopped into his car. Helga blinked, staring at him like he'd grown an extra head, and wondered what on _earth_ that was supposed to mean...


	24. Epilogue Part 2: Rooftops

A/N: Brief reminder/rundown on the 'Eleanor' thing so that we're all on the same page before you read - Gertie first calls Helga 'Eleanor' during the episode 'Helga Sleepwalks' when Helga wakes up in the Boarding House kitchen in her pyjamas with a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her - while Gertie says how good it is to see her (Eleanor/Helga) again. Once Arnold comes in and asks her who she's talking to (and Helga disappears out the window) Gertie _then_ says she was talking to Eleanor Roosevelt.

* * *

Once upon a time, when Helga Pataki was eleven years old and in possession of a small pocket knife, she had spent a warm summer's night on the Boarding House roof - etching lines, shapes and initials into a wooden beam by the fire escape. Together, by the letter 'H' and the nearby letter 'A', was a small triangle beside a carefully carved square and, if you tilted your head at an angle, it looked somewhat like a little house. Not a _home_, a _house_, because eleven year old Helga Pataki had never known a _home_.

Half an hour ago, as a twenty four year old woman, Helga had been slightly mortified when she'd spied the carvings from the corner of her eye, but she'd still tilted her head as necessary, to see the unintentional little house. She had, soon after, buried her face into the palms of her hands once Arnold has discovered the markings that had captured her attention, and insisted they were adorable.

Currently, she sat resting between Arnold's legs, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as they exchanged lazy, comfortable conversation. She noticed, every so often, her eyes would slowly wander to the wooden beam as Arnold spoke, and she would lose herself in daydreams of waking up cuddled close to his body each and every morning.

"What would you have done, if you hadn't returned to Hillwood?" Arnold asked her curiously just moments after she had drifted into fantasy once more. She fought her way out of the visions of tangled sheets and warm bodies, that currently invaded her imagination and looked him in the eyes.

"I... didn't really have a plan." she admitted with a frown. "I think, though, I always knew Doctor Bliss would offer me something back here, in Hillwood."

Arnold ghosted his fingers across the back of her hand, causing an involuntarily sigh to escape her lips. "Did you really think you'd actually end up accepting the offer?" he questioned knowingly, resting his hand over her own.

Helga shook her head, her mind trailing back to weeks of poorly executed pro-con lists and entire days spent staring out at the Californian ocean, as she deliberated her all-important decision. "Honestly, no." she admitted bluntly.

"I'm glad you did." Arnold smiled, and although she couldn't see whatever surely sappy look he was giving her, she could hear it clearly in his voice. "It saved me a difficult search across California."

Helga startled, the full meaning of his statement washing over her slowly, and she twisted to stare at him with rising incredulity. "I- you... _what_?" she spat out with absolutely no eloquence.

Instead of a teasing grin, she found him smiling back at her with sincerity and possibly a hint of amusement at her reaction. "Even if _I_ didn't think of it myself - Grandma would have made it happen, I'm sure." he said confidently, with a laugh. Helga watched his gentle laughter, and still that look of amusement shining through his emerald eyes, and she tilted her head in silent inquiry. "Or, perhaps I should say... _Gertie._" he concluded with a smirk.

Understanding, but honestly a little surprised, Helga wondered - "How long have you..."

"Only a week." Arnold admitted happily, offering her a relaxed smile. "I feel a little stupid for not figuring it out for myself."

Helga raised an eyebrow and shifted comfortably into his embrace once more, leaning her head back against his shoulder. "Did she tell you?" she asked, a little shocked to think that anybody had willingly informed him, much less Gertie herself.

Arnold shook his head, "No, I overhead a conversation." he explained simply. Helga paused, in case he was planning to say anything further, but he neglected to expand on the explanation and she wondered, just briefly, if there was a little more to the story than he was currently letting on.

"Oh..." she said, nodding in understanding, "What else did you learn?"

Running his hands across her waist, he shifted her position slightly in his arms and held her tighter. Helga resisted the urge to hum in approval, lest he discover his hands against her body melted her into a metaphorical human puddle. "All kinds of things..." he said cryptically, "Grandpa's childhood nicknames, for example. I think 'Chin Boy' really suits him."

Helga laughed softly at the familiar nickname, and memories of the playful romantic banter of the people who had, in many respects, become her pseudo-Grandparents. Arnold placed a lingering kiss to her neck, which was currently resting comfortably against his left shoulder. "What was the conversation about?" she wondered idly. Considering they had spent more than two decades without mentioning childhood nicknames on any regular basis, she assumed any conversation involving them must have been rather eye-opening for Arnold.

"Grandma's inheritance, actually." Arnold explained slowly, pausing before saying anything further. "They were discussing who to leave her ring to, and when to do so."

"Ring?" Helga repeated questioningly, failing to recall any memory of Gertie with a ring adorning her fingers, "I've never seen her wear a ring."

Arnold nodded against her hair, "You wouldn't have. It's been kept in a locked box for years..." he seemed to quickly think something over, before continuing, "ever since I was a kid, actually."

Clearly, seeing as the discussion was over inheritance, and the ring had been carefully kept hidden for years - it was easy to deduce that it was something of great value, be it sentimental or monetary. "I assume, then, that it's a family heirloom." she noted logically, "So, would she not pass it on to you?"

Unexpectedly, Helga felt Arnold hesitate for a moment, his body tensing against hers for a passing second. "No..." he said carefully, "I had never expected to inherit it because there was a tag on the ring box, always had been, and I assumed _that_ person was the intended recipient... even though it was impossible."

"Impossible?" Helga asked curiously, tilting her head against his shoulder slightly for better view of his face.

Arnold smiled down at her and nodded, "One reason I always figured Grandma had dementia was because of that ring." he explained. He trailed his hand along her waist again, tracing circle patterns against her shirt, "Because, the person whose name was on the tag was, well... dead... and I always figured that maybe Grandma had just, _forgotten_ that, or something."

"Dead?" Helga blinked warily, her gaze drifting to the floor, "Like, as in... um... your..."

"Oh, no - not my parents." Arnold assured her, catching on quickly and shaking his head. "It was the name of a girl. Grandma's best friend who passed away from Tuberculosis when they were nine years old."

Helga, who had met Gertie's long-time best friend, Arnold's Aunt Mitzy, once or twice during her childhood had personally never heard stories about another best friend, certainly not one who had passed away. Although, she reasoned, she wasn't entirely _supposed_ to have met Aunt Mitzy, nor heard about hers and Gertie's friendship, either - it had all come about after a typically woeful item retrieval quest during fifth grade.

"Grandma sometimes told me stories, when I was younger, about how the two of them would pull pranks together." he continued on, "She always said they were partners in crime and, I suppose, I can assume my Grandfather was the victim of a lot of those crimes." he grinned and Helga let out an amused laugh.

Arnold cleared his throat and the tracing of circles against her skin stopped, "Yesterday, Grandma was telling me how, when her friend first became sick with the Tuberculosis, they did one last 'trip' to the Boarding House together..." he revealed, "They snuck into the kitchen at day break and made themselves bacon and eggs..."

Helga blanched; her muscles tensing and her eyes darting out across the horizon as she sucked in a sharp breath. Memories closely mirroring his description whirled through her mind - flooding her mind with visions of _herself_ in the kitchen at daybreak, a plate of bacon and eggs set before her. "Did..." she began, soft and low and slightly squeaky, "they do it in their pyjamas?"

"Yes." Arnold answered calmly, his hands moving to stroke her arms, "Yes, they did."

Realization swam over her within seconds, and she found answers she never knew she was looking for. She knew now why Gertie called her Eleanor, why the woman had never compromised Helga's secret, and ensured nobody else had either. She also knew, that _Arnold_ knew now, too.

"I thought..." she began halfheartedly, feeling a little shocked, "it was because you were supposed to be the President."

"I think it's good for both things... a double metaphor, maybe?" Arnold chuckled lightly, "Just so she could fool absolutely everybody."

Helga, rather than chuckling, began to _shake_ as the final piece of the puzzle settled, and clicked into place. _The ring_, Helga realized, was not for somebody who had passed away in the early twentieth century, but actually for _her_. Gertie Shortman had, for years, not only protected Helga's secret, but likened her to a childhood best friend and had, for so long, intended to pass her the family ring. However, Helga couldn't help but wonder, why there would be discussion about changing who received it...

"Helga..." Arnold spoke up tentatively, his hands tugging at her waist lightly until she had shifted to face him completely. "Grandma thought that, maybe, I should have the ring to, uh, _give_ to you."

Helga lifted her eyes and her heart stopped beating, Arnold held the ring box in his hand and he looked so uncharacteristically nervous. She decided she was forever grateful they were still on the ground, because even though she wasn't standing on them, her legs felt like jelly.

"Helga Pataki, I _hated _spending the last twelve years without you, and all I can think about now is making sure I'm never without you ever again. I love you," he slowly opened the ring box, and if she had any breath left in her lungs, it would have caught in her throat, "... will you marry me?"

Desperately, the small part of her brain still functioning screamed _yes_ and begged her, pleaded with her to give him her hand and say the word. "I-uh..." she stuttered, struggling for the things she meant to scream out like, _yes, forever, always, yes_. "We-it's... only two... two months." she blurted and she decided, if she screwed this up then later on, she would dig herself a large hole and go die in it.

Arnold shifted, noticeably uncomfortable. "Um, yeah..." he concluded nervously.

Helga, scrambling for the words that refused to escape her lips, felt like time had slowed and all she could see was Arnold's uncertainty, and the dazzling glint of the _beautiful _ring. She wanted to move forward, to fall into his arms and see the ring sparkling against her pale skin.

"Helga..." he spoke softly, "it's... fine, if you want to say no..."

"No!" she shot back immediately, the sudden flood of panic bringing her senses back slowly. "I do _not_ want to say no..." she said confidently, surely, and far calmer than before. She drew her eyes away from the sparkle of the ring and bit her lip as she looked into his eyes - _emerald_, the ring and his eyes were the same stunning shade of emerald green.

Arnold watched her silently, for a moment, before drawing a steadying breath and shuffling forward to close the distance between them. "Is that a..."

Helga bit down on her lip harder, pouring her concentration into uttering the _correct _words. "Yes..." she said shakily, in nothing more than a whisper.

"Yes?" he repeated, a tentative smile playing on his lips as he brushed his fingers against her wrist and slowly lifted her left hand. Helga nodded wholeheartedly, so filled with buzzing nerves and misty eyes, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips. She felt one soft hand skim the palm of her own, as the other slid the ring carefully and slowly onto her finger.

Chest heaving for air as they pulled apart, Helga held her hand to her eyes and watched the glittering gold and emeralds with fascination. "I... it's so _amazing_." she breathed.

Arnold grinned and pulled her into a tight hug, pressing her close against his body and running a hand along the curve of her back. "Looks _perfect_ on you." he murmured into her ear, his words coming out in a rush of relief. "I love you."

"I love you, too." she grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. "So much."

Helga blinked against her watery eyes, to find herself staring at the wooden beam by the fire escape at _just _the right angle to see a home - not a _house_, a **home**.

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**_The End._**

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_Dear everybody, _

_Oh my gosh - it's over, I think I might cry!_

_I would just like to say thanks for the great response to this story and to all of you who not only took the time to read but especially those who made the extra effort to review the story and let me know what they thought._

_I would also like to give a special mention, and say a __**huge thank you**_**, **_to _renegade-452_ who has helped me with ideas and done fantastic detailed reviews for me. I really appreciate the time she's put into helping me with this story!_

_Thanks everyone :)_


	25. A Sequel & A Question

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**No, sorry, this is not another chapter (don't hurt me!) but I do have some good news (and a question) so read on!**

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**Angela On The Couch: Sequel...**

Yes, there will be a sequel (which is why the Epilogue wasn't set further into the future) which will occur eleven years after the events of this story. It is (tentatively) named 'Angela In White' and as I'm sure you can guess it's centered around Angela's wedding. Don't expect anything dramatic or tense - it'll be mostly fluff and happiness and will also include a few flashbacks to Angela On The Couch scenes from Arnold's POV.

You can expect the first chapter in a few months time.

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**What's Next?**

So, with Angela On The Couch completed and Curly's Love Potion not far from wrapping up - I need to decide on my next chapter-fic.

However, whilst sifting through the 40-ish word docs full of ideas floating around in my documents folder I realized I couldn't choose! Instead, I have made a list of my top four choices (with titles and a little bit of info) and if you would like to help me with my decision then (either by Review or PM) let me know which one appeals to you most!

Thanks :)

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_**1. Carry You**_

When life hands you lemons, make lemonade. When life hands you Helga Pataki, well, what the heck ARE you supposed to do? (22 years old, M-rated)

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_**2. It's Good**_

Eight years after fourth grade and things have really changed, especially for Arnold Shortman, but his simple and quiet life is about to be shaken entirely when he's paired up with Helga's friend, Cierra, for a History assignment. (17 years old, T-rated)

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**_3. The Temple Walls_**

Sometimes, you need to slow down and take a closer look at what you left behind...at what was written on the temple walls. (24 years old, T-rated)

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_**4. The End from the Beginning**_

Unfortunately for Helga, when you decide to forget about something, people tend to bring it up again. (18 years old, T-rated)

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